The Learning Curve
by freerangeegghead
Summary: In which Rachel & Santana move in together in the city that never sleeps as Rachel tries to find new dreams to replace the old ones whilst teaching in Brooklyn.A story that celebrates love, music, relationships, family, community, finding yourself & helping others find themselves as well.Part III of Loop/Space/Learning/Opus (LSLO) Series.Drama.Humor.Romance.PEZBERRY. Complete.
1. The First Day

_**Author's note: Dear readers, as promised, here is my follow-up to the Santana and Rachel 'verse that began with "In the Loop" and continued with "The Space Between". **__**Rachel tries her hand at teaching because of a misguided notion about wanting to make a difference through education. Will the Ohio-born, NYADA trained, Broadway star survive Brooklyn? You have to read to find out. **_**:)**_** T**__**his isn't fluff or angst, so much as a story that explores the deeper meaning of relationships in the larger context of society. Also attempts to explore the larger themes of self-discovery, learning and education, music, art and so on. Also, some humor not suitable for some people. **__**You've been warned. Read at your own risk. **_**:-)**

_**Title taken from Stanley Clarke's "The Learning Curve" from the OST of John Singleton's film, "Higher Learning". **_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. And any pop culture reference you recognize. **_**:-)**_** But the prose and original characters and plot points are entirely mine. **_**:-) _The humor is entirely mine, too._ :) **

* * *

Rachel looks at the massive, square, gray, faded square brick building, emblazoned with the faded letters "William Howard Taft High School". The building looks old, but imposing, giving Rachel a sense of foreboding as she stands there, a few meters from the building, watching young people file into the building on a cold Monday morning.

An early autumn breeze blows through her and she pulls her coat towards herself and shivers. She suddenly feels herself grow nervous as she watches the students of Taft High make their way into the school. As she watches each one, she notices that the sea of youthful faces are different from those she used to see at McKinley High in Lima, Ohio. Where the likes of her and Finn and Kurt were the majority in the school, she could see that they were the minority here, with fewer pale skinned young people in the crowd. She feels a bit out of place. Suddenly, against her better judgment, she cannot help but feel afraid, overwhelmed, like she is way in over her head and all she can think of is turning around and walking back the way she came.

She realizes she's not in Manhattan anymore.

She realizes this is really Brooklyn now.

Suddenly she wonders if this is a good idea.

* * *

It seemed like a good idea a couple of years ago when she brought it up to Santana, right after Rachel came back from her stint in London.

After her throat surgery, she had realized she had wanted to explore new things in her life. Her surgery had brought her face to face with her mortality, and confronted with the realization that life was too fleeting and short to spend it pursuing ephemeral, fickle fame and fortune, she had instead, given up a career in Broadway for West End, moved to London for a while, moved back to New York, decided to take a rest from Broadway, moved in with Santana and, to everyone's surprise, decided to try her hand in teaching.

She had majored in drama and literature at NYADA, but had also minored in music as well. To Santana's surprise, she had also revealed that she had herself certified as a teacher as well, somewhere between the time she was struggling to be a Broadway actor, doing auditions and making ends meet with day jobs. When Santana registers surprise, she shrugs and says, "I wasn't sure if Broadway was what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. So I got myself certified as a teacher. I'm not Mr. Schue, of course I would have myself certified!"

Santana, being Santana, was never one to oppose Rachel's ideas, suggestions, plans, unless it was really necessary, but she had always been somewhat ambivalent about some of Rachel's decisions – teaching in one of the more perilous neighborhoods in Brooklyn being one of them. She was able to convince Rachel to wait a year while they adjusted to living together, what with raising a child and all, and Rachel had agreed. And now here she is, in front of a high school building, about to teach English.

Today, Santana had insisted she drive Rachel to the school, although Rachel claimed she was just fine taking the subway. Santana had rolled her eyes at her and said she was going to drive her to school and that was that.

Santana had been quiet today when she drove Rachel to work. Amy Winehouse's deep, dark voice had wafted through the car stereo. They have decided to alternate between Rachel's Broadway musicals and Santana's more eclectic tastes and are now on Santana's playlist. This is one of the many things that they have had to compromise on since they have moved in together.

Santana had seemed on the verge of asking Rachel again if she is sure about this earlier, just before Rachel got out of the car.

Beneath the casual bravado Santana had at times, Rachel could see that she was actually genuinely worried about Rachel, and since Santana had always had difficulty expressing emotions, she always showed her emotions through her actions more than anything else. It took her three years just to tell Rachel she loved her, and even longer just to even admit she liked Rachel. Driving her to work was one of those many ways in which Santana showed her concern. As was her insisting Rachel carry mace and perhaps a Taser gun. Rachel had told her the school probably does not allow Taser guns, so Santana had grinned and said, "That's what the self-defense moves I taught you are for." Rachel is not even a little surprised that Santana knows self-defense, something Santana says Coach Sue Sylvester had insisted they take, for their cheering competitions. Santana had reluctantly left her then, by the sidewalk, sourly dejected she cannot give Rachel a good luck kiss and says, grinning, "I still think your skirt is too short and sexy for high school teaching."

Rachel had not, not even once, thought she would actually be living with, much less fall in love with, Santana Lopez.

It's some surreal, strange twist of fate that the one person in high school who always bickered with her and annoyed her, called her names like hobbit, dwarf, yentl, and told her once that she dressed like one of the bait girls in "To Catch a Predator" would not only end up being a friend, but also end up being the one person Rachel is certain she would love for the rest of her life.

But being with Santana, getting to know her more, living with her, has made Rachel realize more and more each day why she fell in love with her in the first place. Like when she'd been having doubts about NYADA and New York, homesick, lonely, fresh from a break-up and on the verge of dropping out, packing up and going back to Lima, Ohio, Santana had been there. By some serendipitous act of providence, Santana had called her then, had told her she was on her way to New York, and over drinks at a random bar whose name escapes her now, Santana had managed to persuade her not only to stay in New York, but also to stay in NYADA and not give up on her dreams. Tipsy on cocktails by then, Santana had told Rachel what she really thought of her then: that Rachel was the most talented woman she knew and that giving up on her dreams would be the worst decision she would ever do in her life. Over the years that they have been together, Santana would consistently give her this kind of support, always there for her, never judging, always believing in her.

That fateful night Rachel and Santana had ended up spending the night together, drunk on cocktails and wine. That night was a revelation to Rachel, like a damburst of undiscovered feelings, revealing some things about herself she never knew existed, something unlocked, exposed for Santana's dark, unfathomable, intense eyes to see. Santana was a revelation then, too. Santana had kissed her then, had held her, had made love to her like she was the only person that mattered, like she was the only person worth caring about in the world. Santana had been gentle, careful, that first time they had been together, asking Rachel if it hurt, if she was okay, showering her with butterfly kisses, the press of her soft lips on Rachel's skin warm and soft and careful. Almost _loving_. Rachel knew that drunken night was not supposed to happen, Santana was with Brittany at that time, but it was at that time that Rachel had wished, with a faint stab of jealousy and pain, that Santana was hers, instead.

This realization had sent shockwaves to Rachel. It terrified her. She realized then that she could fall in love with Santana Lopez.

Santana still holds her like it is the first time and she realizes it is because Santana knows these moments can be taken away in an instant. It is a credit to how much Santana had grown that Rachel feels so loved and cared for. Rachel realizes she has not loved anyone, not even Finn, like she loves Santana. In fact, Finn, and everyone else she has been with since before Santana does not seem to compare with her.

Rachel always knew Santana can be a lot of things – bitchy, mean, ruthless, fierce – but she had realized, Santana can surprise her by being a lot of other things as well – sweet, compassionate, caring, considerate, loving, devoted, understanding, supportive and protective.

In fact, it was Santana who had decided to move to New York, with her daughter Suzie, once she found a way to go there: their modest human rights and environmental law firm was expanding its California office to include New York and Santana had been offered a chance to help establish it. She had grabbed the chance.

Santana is a human rights and environmental lawyer for a law firm that specialized not only in individual cases but public interest cases as well. They had spent the better part of a year trying to figure out where to move, with Santana jokingly saying bringing out the darts and a U.S. map and letting fate do its work.

A call from Santana's boss though, became a godsend. They were thinking of expanding the law office and would Santana want to go with a senior partner to New York to help set it up? Santana did not need to be asked twice. She said yes. _  
_

Santana had never told her then, but Rachel knew that Santana had known, had always known, how much Broadway meant to Rachel. This made her love Santana even more. She may be a woman of few words, her Santana, but she is a woman who cares for and is considerate about Rachel's needs. Rachel hopes she is like this to Santana, too.

Protective was what Santana had been when Rachel had told her of her intentions of teaching, and not just anywhere, but in Brooklyn. Santana had been supportive, but ambivalent. Santana had never actively tried to dissuade her from teaching in Brooklyn, although she did tell her she was opposed to the idea of Rachel teaching in one of the more questionable neighborhoods in Brooklyn. "We already live in Brooklyn, what do you think your parents and friends will say when they find out you not only gave up a Broadway career, but are also teaching in _Brooklyn?!_"

Rachel had told her, rightfully so, that they live in Greenburg Hill Gardens, which is pretty much like East Village, Park Slope, Cobble Hill and Brooklyn Heights all put together, an up-and-coming, swanky, upscale neighborhood overlooking Manhattan that was not only safe but also very family friendly. It was not Brooklyn at all, she had pointed out. Rachel had been living on the Upper East Side, but she admitted skyrocketing real estate prices were too criminal for them to actually raise a family there, and thus had ended up moving to Brooklyn's Greenburg Hill Gardens instead. Rachel's parents were aghast, Kurt, a self-professed Manhattanite, appalled, at Rachel's decision. "Yes," Santana had argued at the time when Rachel had said they were not _actually_ living in Brooklyn, "But your parents already think we might as well be living in Lima, Ohio…isn't Brooklyn one of those places people _escape_ from, that's why they live in Manhattan?!" Santana is already one sentence away from pointing out that Rachel's parents do not like Santana as much as they liked Finn and her giving up Broadway to _teach_ would definitely be blamed on Santana, and their relationship.

"Besides," Santana had said, "I won't be able to protect you there in case some assholes attack you or something."

Rachel realizes she misses Santana.

She swallows, hesitates, takes a deep breath, then slowly makes her way to the building.

* * *

**_Author's end notes: _**

**_Thanks for reading! As always your reviews are welcome and are much appreciated. _**

**_This story is the result of a month-long, non-stop marathon discussion I've been having with my beta, DragonsWillFly, in which we endlessly deconstructed "Glee" as well as talked about our top picks for best movie teacher. As I said, this isn't angst or fluff, so much as what a band geek and a former Glee Club geek think "Glee" would have been, had Mr. Schuester not been a high school teacher or the Glee Club adviser. And also because Rachel would have been a better teacher than Mr. Schuester. I think it apt as Season 4 of "Glee" will premier this September 2012. _:)**

**_Depending on where this story takes me, it may or may not take 10 chapters, more or less (or more). _**

**_Thanks again to my beta, DragonsWillFly, for the never-ending support and beta-ing despite cars that break down, work, stress, sleepiness/lack of sleep and the demanding egghead who gets easily distracted by bright, shiny things. :-)_**


	2. The Class

"Hiya!"

"Hey. Hayadooin?"

"_Good morning everyone, my name is Ms. Rachel Berry and I will be your teacher for…"_

"Keep an eye on your bag, ma'am. It's liable to grow legs."

"Ugh, white teacher for English. How _original_."

"You the teacher? You so tiny…You so young!..."

"_Err, thank you. Now if everyone could please take their seats so I can take attendance…"_

"Take our seats where?"

"You is funny."

"Sorry about him. He a real, real duh-ta-duh. He don't know from nothin'."

"_Doesn't."_

"Wha? What you talkin' 'bout?"

"_Never mind…Raise your hand and say 'here' as I call your name…Adams, Shawn…"_

"And take our seats _where?_"

"No more seats!"

"_Just…choose any seat, please…Or stand…by the corner…Adams, Shawn…"_

"Right here!"

"Asshole! Stop touching yourself. Gross! He ain't Shawn…Shawn gone."

"Hey, I'm just goofin' on ya."

"Hey, teach! There ain't no seats left! Kwee sit by the windows?"

"_Yes, any seat is fine actually. Thank you. Adler, Arnold…? Adler, Arnold…?"_

"What's _actually?_"

"I ain't answering to that. That my slave name, y'all."

"Why you have to make it hard on everyone all the fucking time, man? Just answer the fucking question!"

"My name ain't Arnold Adler…It's Kareem…"

"_Alright. Kareem…"_

"Here."

"_Please stop throwing that…thing..around…Anderson, Charlie…"_

"Grounded! He got pulled over while driving black."

"I skeeve that."

"_If you don't stop doing that I'm going to have to give everyone detention."_

"Ooooh…I'm so scared."

"Did you see the attitude we got from her? She really thinks who she is, that one."

"Who died and made _you_ boss?"

"_Now I know this is English and I'd like to ask if…"_

"I don't understand why we need to learn English..we speak it, don't we?"

"Fight! Fight! Fight!"

"You fuckin' gonna get it, asshole!"

"That shit is _whack!_"

"_Oh."_

"Mr. Smith! The boys are fighting again!"

"OUTTA THE WAY, teach!"

"You! Principal's office, now! You, too! Everyone! Listen up! This here is…"

"_Ms. Rachel Berry…"_

"Ms. Rachel Berry, and she'll be your English teacher, aight? Now be nice and don't let me catch any of you being mean to her!"

"_Thank you, Mr…?" _

"Smith."

"_Thank you, Mr. Smith."_

"Don't mention it…Don't worry, half of 'em will be have dropped out by the end of the semester. By the way, jeet?"

"_I'm sorry, what?"_

"Jeetjet?"

"_Errr, no…?"_

"Wanna have lunch later? What are you doing Friday night?"

"_Uh, no, thank you. But I appreciate the offer."_

"Okay. Let's have lunch sometime, yeah?"

* * *

Rachel sits in one of the chairs in the faculty room, during recess, cold, clammy hands still shaking, knees trembling, heart still beating fast, from what had happened earlier. The day is not going well. She still has not recovered from the shock of the metal detector scanning and the intrusive, almost invasive body search that they require all people to go through, before entering the premises, and the students of her homeroom and other morning classes being unruly and difficult. There was also a riot during the assembly meeting, and she could not get the image of the normally phlegmatic, placid Principal Abrams morphing into a man capable of throwing a teenager twice his size across the hall. Principal Figgins he is definitely not.

What she would give for a cigarette now. She envies Santana this. Though Santana rarely smoked now, unless stressed, at Rachel's request, Rachel can now understand why she would smoke the occasional cigarette.

She settles for some lukewarm chamomile tea instead. As she sips the tea, she could see some of the other teachers just lounging around the faculty room, laughing, chatting, checking papers, even showing each other photos of their past summer.

Though Rachel had been introduced by Principal John Abrams to the other faculty members, Rachel still had not made friends yet. She does not know what it is, but perhaps it is the combination of her small-town roots, her big city success, her seemingly starry-eyed, enthusiastic, almost naïve look on her face. Santana had already warned her about this. She thinks she should have listened to her. She really misses Santana now.

Presently a woman sits beside her. The woman is older, probably in her forties or fifties. She has dark hair with streaks of gray and light brown skin.

"Rough first day?" the woman asks. There is a tiny hint of a lilting accent in her voice. It reminds Rachel a bit of Santana's mother's accent.

Rachel is in no mood to answer, but the woman asks her so nicely and reminds her a little of Santana, that Rachel gives her a small smile and nods.

"Gomez. Gloria. Mrs.," the woman says, offering a hand for Rachel to shake.

"Berry, Rachel. Miss," Rachel says, taking Gloria Gomez's hand and shaking it.

Gloria grimaces slightly and says, "Oooh, that would explain the look on your face. Must say they _do_ give the new, single teachers here a harder time than most the first time around."

Rachel sighs. The shaking has stopped, although her hands still feel cold and clammy.

"Single and available? Or single and _un_available?" Gloria Gomez asks her, with a nosy twinkle in her eye.

Rachel smiles. "Single and very much committed, I'm afraid."

Gloria smiles, looks at her, not knowing what to say. Suddenly she stands up , gestures to Rachel and says, "Come."

"What?"

"No questions. Just come."

"Okay."

* * *

A few minutes later, they are at the back of the main building, near the bleachers at the back of the school, sharing a cigarette. The fields and bleachers are virtually empty, the grass on the fields green. The place is quiet, the sky gloomy and cloudy. Rachel can hear a few stray, brave birds chirping, the distant noise of students in the main building screaming and chatting and laughing. There is a faint chorus of voices that sound a bit like singing, from somewhere inside the building. She strains to hear the voices, but they abruptly stop.

There is much peace to be had here.

Rachel thinks smoking is bad for her, but given the circumstances, she might as well try it. "Live dangerously and all that," as Santana would say. Since living with Santana, she has already tried a few things she never thought she would, like meat. She does not care for it so much, but she does not mind eating it once in a while, as she knows she needs some protein in her body as well. Her parents, who disapprove of this, credit this sudden need to try different things at least once to her relationship with Santana.

Nicotine does not serve any kind of purpose in her body, she knows, but it feels good, inhaling this, even though the nicotine rush is making her cough and giving her a headache.

Gloria is giving her a brief orientation on Taft High School. She admits it has its problems: red tape, bureaucracy, funding, ridiculous policies, poverty, lack of school equipment, a high dropout rate, especially among the minorities, problems with teenage pregnancy, gang violence, drug and alcohol abuse, literacy rates and so on, but it has its charm.

Gloria then proceeds to tell her about how each year level is divided into what the teachers call the super slows, the average ones and the advanced and super advanced classes. She says they are called something more politically correct in their forms, but that is how the teachers have cynically divided them, "for all _intensive_ purposes." The super slows are usually the underachievers, the slackers, the perennial dropouts, the perennial detention goers, the teen moms, the ones with gang affiliation, the slow students. The average ones are the ones in the regular classes, and the advanced and super advanced classes are the smartest of the smartest, overachieving, talented, gifted students of Taft High, the ones who are always at the top of the class, always taking advanced classes and the ones who always win any and all competitions on the Math, Science and other competitions.

"They usually give new teachers the toughest assignments," Gloria says, "But don't worry about it. If and when you last long enough here, you'll eventually get the fast learners, where all the fulfillment's at."

Gloria gives her an encouraging smile but it does not really give Rachel the kind of comforting reassurance it should have. Instead Rachel feels a sinking feeling at the pit of her stomach, and can already feel Santana's "I-told-you-so-look" on her face once she finds out about this.

If Gloria is surprised at finding someone like Rachel here, someone young, successful and obviously still has more options outside of teaching than most of the teachers who have taught here for decades, she does not show it. She does inform Rachel about the regular assembly meetings at the assembly hall, the faculty meetings (once a week or every other week, depending on Principal Abrams' mood), lesson plans, evaluation sheets, student grades and the grading system, forms to be filled (progress reports, consultation forms), where to find much-needed information and updates (the bulletin board, or the individual pigeon holes, where Principal Abrams likes to put his memos. "He loves his memos!" Gloria says.).

Gloria ends her orientation with, "The teachers are overworked, and underpaid, but stick around and you'll see it has its rewards."

Rachel smiles through the smoke rings Gloria is attempting to make in the breeze that has suddenly blown in their direction. She wants to believe Gloria, she _needs_ to believe Gloria, but all she can think of is a few more hours of hostile, rebellious, angry students who are bigger than her waiting to pounce on her and her naiveté.

"How do I deal with the students?" Rachel asks now.

Gloria shrugs her shoulders. "We do what we can. With what we have. Sometimes we call security. Or Principal Abrams. Or one of the male teachers. Preferably the ones teaching PE."

"Mr. Smith helped me out earlier today, when some of the students had a fight," Rachel says.

Gloria has a flicker of an expression on her face that Rachel cannot explain. But it passes so quickly on her face that Rachel is not sure she saw it all. They are silent as they pass the cigarette between each other and inhale smoke into their lungs.

Presently, Gloria speaks. "That was very nice of him."

She is quiet again. Rachel is confused.

Gloria says, "If you need help, he's usually okay with stuff like that. Just…if he starts inviting you out for lunch or something, walk away."

Rachel does not know why, but she ends up bursting out into laughter. Gloria looks at her, with a confused look on her face as Rachel continues to laugh. Rachel just shakes her head, still laughing, until she is spent and she is calm, but she looks at Gloria and laughs again. Gloria, at first does not get it, but laughs a bit uncertainly at first, before Rachel's infectious laughter catches up with her and she finds herself laughing as heartily as Rachel.

"I'm sorry," Rachel apologizes. "It's just…he kind of reminds me of this teacher we had when I was in high school who had so much gel in his hair a fly would probably slip and slide on it, and was so addicted to vests that one of my…_friends_…once told him he belonged to a twelve-step program. I mean he even looks a little like him…but with a Brooklyn accent. So I don't think you need to worry about that."

Gloria laughs some more. "Good. Smarter than the average green teacher we get around here. No wonder I liked you the first time I saw you. I think we'll get along just fine. Want to synchronize lunch periods?"

Rachel looks at her, smiles and nods. Suddenly, the day does not seem so bad after all.

"You might want to wear some kind of ring on your ring finger though, just so people will stay away from you," Gloria advises her. "Normally, they don't. No doesn't mean no in these parts, but at least, seeing a ring might actively discourage some of the more, er, aggressive guys around here."

Rachel nods again, takes that in.

"You might also want to wear longer skirts next time. Or slacks," Gloria advises her. "I know, I know…but these guys are easily distracted. They get distracted by bright, shiny things…like sexy legs in short, short skirts."

Rachel blushes as Gloria smiles at her.

When they hear the bell signaling that recess has ended, Gloria grudgingly puts out the cigarette, but not before inhaling as much as she can of the cigarette, and they both slowly make their way back to the main building.

"My back hurts," Gloria presently complains as she tries to rotate her neck and shoulders, as the building looms in front of them.

Rachel looks at her. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Gloria says. "My husband and I were at it all night long, and it's just been hard…"

Rachel grimaces, as Gloria proceeds to recount how far along she and her husband got through the illustrated Kama Sutra ("We're trying to spice up our sex life," Gloria says. "Twenty five years together can make for a boring sex life!") last night before she started cramping. It is too much information, but it takes Rachel's mind off the very thought of going back to those harrowing halls. Perhaps this is what Gloria is trying to do.

"I tell you, sex can sometimes be such a chore!" Gloria presently says. "I hope you never have to go through that!"

Rachel offers a simple smile, nods and concentrates on the building.

When they both enter the glass doors, Gloria puts her hand on Rachel's arm, squeezes it and gives her an encouraging smile. Rachel gives her a grateful smile.

Rachel goes back to her classroom where yet another group of students are waiting for her.

* * *

**_Author's end notes:_**

**_Hope you enjoyed reading this chapter!_**

**_Again, many thanks to everyone for reading. Your reviews are more than welcome and I thank you in advance for them. :)_**

**_Just a few notes - Parker88, many thanks for your encouraging note._**

**_Pumpkin513 – Yes, I actually had wanted to make this one from Rachel's perspective, as I wanted to explore her perspective of their relationship and where she is at in her life as well._**

**_I must say I do enjoy writing and expanding this 'verse as I feel there's so much yet to be explored in terms of character, themes, possibilities, stories, etc. Many thanks for everyone's continued support and interest._**

**_DragonsWillFly – many thanks for the help with this chapter. Wouldn't have pulled it off without your encouragement and support. And yes, it's been a month. :) And it does feel such a long and short time (at the same time). :) The floods have washed away the darts by the way. :-)_**

**_On to Chapter 3. _:)**


	3. At the End of the Day

Rachel plops down on their bed, that day, exhausted.

Santana looks up, puts down the law book she has been reviewing, removes her glasses and says, "I guess it's stupid to ask how your day went…?"

"Ugh. Don't ask. In less than an hour, I think I've been insulted, hit on and I narrowly avoided having my nose punched out right in the middle of a fistfight in English!" Rachel's voice comes from the pillow, muffled and annoyed.

"Are you okay? Did you just say someone hit on you?"

"Yeah, this guy, he's one of the other high school teachers…Kind of reminded me of Mr. Schuester actually." Rachel rolls over to the side to look at Santana.

"Ugh, that's just gross, baby."

"I know, right?"

"You want me to beat someone up for you?"

"Aw, honey, that's so sweet of you, but I really don't want you to be arrested for assault and battery just to prove you love me."

Santana laughs. "You know I'm not afraid to cut anyone."

Rachel chuckles. "I know. Thanks honey, but I'm good."

Rachel is quiet, pensive. "They're monsters. All of them! I think they all hate me…and nobody speaks English!" Rachel suddenly says.

"Now you know how I used to feel when you were being particularly obnoxious in high school."

Rachel says, "I'm so sorry."

Santana laughs. Rachel thinks for a few moments.

"Although you were kind of annoying in high school, too," Rachel says, thoughtfully.

Santana's laughter dies. "I'm sorry. I was acting out. I had rage."

She stands up and moves to the bed, puts her hand on Rachel's shoulders, runs her hand over her Rachel's stomach. "Besides you were kind of annoying in high school, also. You're still kind of annoying now…"

Rachel gives her a dark look.

"Sometimes," Santana adds quickly. "In a good way."

Rachel sniffs. Santana laughs and leans over, brushing lips over Rachel's own. Rachel's heart flutters at the touch of Santana's lips. Her hands automatically come up to cup Santana's face, returning the kiss with fervent enthusiasm.

Santana pulls away long enough to smile and ask, "Feeling better now, baby?"

Rachel smiles back, before pulling Santana's face back to hers. "Very."

"You want me to cook?"

"Please don't."

Santana pulls back and gives her a mock hurt expression. "I'm choosing not to be offended by that."

"Just like I'm choosing not to be offended by the fact that you made me take down that high school portrait of mine in the living room," Rachel retorts.

Santana sighs, sits back and asks, "You're not going to let that go, are you?"

"No, not really," Rachel says, leaning back on her elbows. "I liked that portrait."

Santana rolls her eyes. "It just had to go. It was creepy."

"It was not," Rachel insists.

"Who has a portrait of themselves in their living room anyway?" Santana asks her.

"My dads had that made for me junior year in high school, as a birthday gift," Rachel says.

"I know, I know, I remember. We had a party in your basement in high school that one time with that stupid portrait of yours staring down at us, watching us, _judging_ us," Santana says, waving a hand away, as if she has heard this argument a thousand times. "Your dads probably hate me for that, too, don't they?"

"Hey," Rachel chides her. She gets up and starts to take off her clothes, putting on something more comfortable. She chooses one of Santana's Kentucky university tees and a pair of jogging pants. Santana's clothes are too big for Rachel, but she likes them anyway because they are comfortable. Rachel used to obsessively separate her clothes from Santana's, insisting their clothes be separated by such criteria as purpose, function, season, color, size, date of purchase and fabric. Santana had rolled her eyes then as Rachel had meticulously separated Santana's clothes from her own, had labeled every drawer with their names and what each contained (underwear, socks, and so on). Santana had told her, "You need help, Rach" which Rachel had conveniently ignored. But then, Rachel, being an only child, had discovered the many joys of borrowing clothes, mostly house clothes, some coats, blouses and jackets, from Santana, so Rachel had slowly relaxed that rule. The room itself is the result of much debate, after a prolonged discussion in which Santana refused to sleep in a room wallpapered or painted in pink and Rachel had refused to sleep in a room that was like a batcave. They finally reached a decision, a compromise, in which they chose neutral colors, beige and faded blue, from the walls to the door to the curtains and bedsheets, so much so that even if it looks like a proper parents' room, it reflects Santana's personality, as much as it reflects Rachel's.

Presently, Rachel says, "And no, they don't hate you." Rachel sounds like she has said this last statement a thousand times, too.

Santana's face brightens at seeing a bit of Rachel's skin exposed as the other woman dresses. The expression on her face is not lost on Rachel.

"Anyway, it looked like something out of a horror movie," Santana says, trying hard not to stare at her. "All you needed then was some thunder and lightning and Vincent Price laughing hysterically in the background. Suzie had nightmares over that portrait."

Santana is teasing Rachel now and Rachel knows it. She rolls her eyes. "Sometimes, I wonder why I love you," Rachel says, in a serious tone, but her eyes twinkle as she looks at Santana.

"Sometimes, I wonder about that, too," Santana says, gamely, quirking a corner of her lips into a small smile.

Rachel shakes her head. Santana gets up and puts her arms around Rachel's waist from behind, planting a kiss on her shoulders. "I know how to make you feel even better," Santana murmurs into Rachel's neck, voice husky and sexy.

Rachel still blushes whenever Santana speaks like this. She clears her throat and says, "Honey, I'd love to, but I'm kind of tired right now…"

Santana pulls back and says, "Uh, no. That's not what I meant. I meant…take out? You want me to order some take out?"

"Oh," Rachel says, vaguely disappointed that Santana was not interested. "Okay."

When Santana removes her arms from Rachel's waist, the loss of contact makes Rachel whine and Santana laughs and holds her again. "Missing me already?"

"Much," Rachel says, enjoying Santana's warmth as she holds her from behind. "Remind me again why I'm teaching?"

Santana says, "I don't know really. I have no idea."

Rachel laughs, pinches her arm.

"C'mon. Let's order pizza," Santana says. "_Vegetarian_ pizza for you. That'll make you feel better. We normal people will order the not-so crappy food…"

* * *

"So," Santana starts by way of introduction, as she is about to pop a bite of the slice of pepperoni pizza in her mouth, while looking at Suzie, "How was school, honey?"

They are by the dining table, divided by a counter that separates the dining area from the kitchen, a simple, but elegant affair of wood and tiles and enough light from the windows that make it bright and airy and gives the illusion of spaciousness and space efficiency. Like anything else in the house, this area's design has been a result of much argument and discussion between Santana and Rachel. A small whiteboard and a corkboard, at Rachel's insistence, is hanging near the refrigerator, by the wallphone, with the month's calendar on it, Rachel's trademark color coded post-it notes (pink for her, yellow for Suzie and green for Santana) posted on it, along with some notes in whiteboard ink pen for each day. Everyone's to-do lists, including the day's suggested and approved menus, household chores, the cleaning lady's scheduled visits, bills to be paid, PTA meetings, regular meetings (Rachel's projected faculty meetings, Santana's regular meetings at the firm) and Suzie's school and after-school activities (ballet practice, music, self-defense) are posted on it as well. Santana had balked at this, following the annoying labeling Rachel had done with their clothing, but eventually, Santana had grudgingly admitted that it did help them manage their time more smoothly. Today, Santana informs Rachel she would have to pick up Suzie from school a few days from now as she has a meeting with a client. Rachel dutifully takes note of this on the board as Santana rolls her eyes at her.

Suzie stares at the slice of pizza on her plate, looks up, shrugs and looks down at her plate again.

"Learned anything new? Made any new friends? Inspired by something new?" Santana asks again.

Suzie just stays quiet, shakes her head.

Rachel listens to the exchange between Santana and her daughter and stays quiet herself. Lately, Suzie has been very quiet, sullen, moody. Suzie is twelve, on the cusp of adolescence, so Rachel and Santana understand it a little, both having gone through it themselves. Except it is a little strange to see a less cheerful, less talkative Suzie. Rachel and Santana almost miss the irreverent, precocious Suzie and do not know how to handle this more taciturn Suzie in front of them. A number of times Santana, and sometimes Rachel, had approached Suzie and had told her if she needed someone to talk to, or ask questions from, they are both more than willing to listen and answer any and all questions she may have about anything under the sun. These talks were usually met with awkwardness, embarrassment and confusion, as Suzie would rightfully say they have told her more than enough about adolescence, sexual reproduction , anatomy and biology and the natural processes a girl's body goes through so she does not know really what further information she would want from them. After a few more of this, both Rachel and Santana have decided to leave her alone, and not nag her until she is ready to ask further questions. Suzie seems to find this arrangement more suitable. These past few months, she seems to find locking herself in her bedroom, face glued to her computer playing those RPG games, or doing facebook or any of those other things prepubescent and pubescent children seem to be most preoccupied with, more preferable than hanging out with Santana and Rachel in the living room. Santana had raised the possibility of pulling the plug on the internet, removing her computer, and removing the door from Suzie's bedroom, an option they can employ if Suzie's behavior persists, but Rachel had convinced her this would probably be a bad idea and would probably push Suzie further away from them.

Rachel suspects Suzie is sulking though due to a more specific reason: Suzie had asked Santana earlier today if they could have a puppy. Santana had flatly said no. When Rachel tries to come to Suzie's aid, Santana gives Rachel a warning look. Santana had refused to pacify the child, is refusing to pacify the child now and if she is aware that this is the reason Suzie is quiet, is choosing to ignore it. Santana had told Rachel then that Suzie must learn that she cannot get everything she wants. Santana does not want her child growing up spoiled. Rachel thinks Suzie is growing up fine, but she chooses not to argue this point.

Presently, Suzie pushes her plate away from her, looks up at Rachel and Santana and asks, "Can I go to my room?"

Santana looks at her suspiciously. "Why?"

Suzie shrugs. "I'm not hungry."

Santana's normally expressive face takes on that impassive, lawyer's face she employs in the courtroom. Rachel looks at the two of them, feels a bit of the tension coming from mother and daughter. It is strange, she thinks, how alike Santana and Suzie are. Every day, Suzie seems to be growing into Santana more and more, from the way she knits her brows, to the way she purses her lips, to the way she pouts and sulks to that dark look that passes through her face when she is angry or annoyed. Save for the dark, honey blonde hair, the dark, almond grey eyes with flecks of blue in them, the fair-skinned, lithe, graceful body, that Suzie got from her late mother, Brittany, Suzie is all Santana. Rachel loves Suzie for this, because Suzie is a part of Santana, and Rachel loves anything and anyone that has to do with Santana.

The tension eases when Santana nods, and Rachel knows she has decided this is not one of those days. Everyone is tired, she knows Santana realizes this, and reprimanding her daughter would not get them anywhere.

Suzie mutters a hurried thank you before she leaves the table. As she hurriedly passes by Rachel, Rachel catches a glimpse of a slight bruise on her neck, a minor scratch on her cheek. But before she can ask what happened to her, Suzie bows her head and hastily makes her way to the door leading to the hallway that separates the dining area and kitchen from the living room. The door swings as she opens and closes it quietly.

There is silence at the table as Rachel hands Santana another slice of pizza and a glass of water.

"How was your day?" Rachel presently asks.

Santana shrugs. "It was fine. Same old, same old. Corporations. Human rights violations. Lots of paper work. Ad infinitum."

Rachel nods.

"There is an interesting case about gay and lesbian immigrants that we might take on. Could be a public interest case, we don't know. We're trying to see how much information we can gather before we can actually proceed with it."

"That sounds great," Rachel says.

"Yeah," Santana says, not adding any more information.

"Okay," Rachel says when Santana continues to be silent. This is one of the things Rachel has gotten used to. Silent Santana. It is quite interesting that the Santana she knew in high school who seemed to have a lot to say about anything under the sun, is actually quieter now, more prudent, tactful, and, never wastes any word or gesture.

When it is apparent Santana intends to be quiet for the remainder of the meal, Rachel suddenly speaks up. "Hey, I forgot to say I made a friend today though."

"Yeah?" Santana asks, interest piqued.

"Yes. Gloria Gomez. One of the other teachers."

Santana rolls her eyes, as if to say, _of course_. She swallows, takes a drink of her Coke and says, "Ah, you're a magnet for Latinas now, aren't you?"

"She's married, honey. And like, a hundred years _old_. Besides, I can't help it if you think I'm hot."

"Can't argue that."

They are quiet again. Then Santana says, between bites of her pizza, "I have a new colleague at work."

"Yes?"

"Miranda _Vanderbilt_," Santana says.

Rachel sees her roll her eyes and she knows just from Santana's expression that she does not like this particular person.

"Sounds like old money," Rachel comments.

"Which is really just code for snooty," Santana adds. "She's kind of this annoying Ivy League Law School graduate who got a job with us because daddy is a prominent supporter."

"Ah."

"Yeah," Santana says. "You should hear her cringe-worthy comments about climate change and human rights."

Rachel laughs. "Sounds like you don't like her."

Santana shrugs. "I have little patience for rich, privileged, sheltered Country Club members who just want to work for the firm for the experience, has zero knowledge for what we fight for and doesn't care about what we do."

"Okay…"

"But don't worry about it. I can handle her. I can always go all Lima Heights on her if and when she pisses me off."

Rachel grins. "I'm sure that'll teach her a lesson…of some sort."

Santana chuckles.

There is silence again, before Santana reaches over, covers Rachel's hand with hers and says, softly now, "It'll get better baby, you'll see."

Rachel nods, wanting to believe Santana.

* * *

**_Author's end notes:_**

**_Well, that's Chapter 3 for you. Hope you enjoyed reading it! Thanks for reading and reviewing it. Really appreciate it._**

**_Just think of this as "Glee", but set in Brooklyn, with Rachel as teacher, and very, very gay. _:)**

**_Will try to update this story as regularly as I can barring work (which keeps getting in the way) and climate change. _:)  
**

**_DragonsWillFly – thanks for the comments on this chapter! Also, thanks for going over this. _:-)**


	4. That's Just the Way It Is

_**Author's note: Dear readers, Chapter 4 is up. Warning – there is a reason this is Rated M. Again, read at your own risk. **_**:)**

* * *

Rachel's classes do not get better, despite Santana's reassurances that they would. It is not like in the movies where things get better set to a montage of scenes that illustrate the gradual progress of the student-teacher relationship.

What she believes now is that they will get worse before they get better.

Each day is a daily battle.

It takes her, for instance, at least half an hour to an hour just to make the students settle down. This normally means a lot of shouting, a bit of loud tapping on the table to get everyone's attention, calling Mr. Smith to control her class for her, or break up a fight for her, who, of course, never fails to hit on her.

Once she succeeds in controlling the class and she has started taking attendance, a noise, a squeak, a titter here and there, a snarky side comment, someone clearing his or her throat, a whisper, a snort, then the whole class erupts into noise again, and she is back to square one.

On the days when she succeeds in getting through the first few minutes of class finishing the attendance and can start the lesson of the day (this is usually during those days when the more unruly, rebellious teenagers are absent, meaning the class only has a handful of students), typically a short story or a poem, she is met with silence, so much so that most of the time, she feels like she is talking to herself.

So when she asks such questions such as,

"_Why does William Faulkner call his story 'A Rose for Emily'?"_

"_What does the main character of Herman Melville's 'Billy Budd' signify?"_

"_What does the title 'I wandered lonely as a cloud' mean in William Wordsworth's poem?"_

"_What is the theme of Ray Bradbury's 'A Story of Love'?"_

"_Has anyone ever read O. Henry's stories? Guy de Maupassant's stories? Edgar Allan Poe's stories? Anyone?"_

These questions, and many similar to them, are met with stoic, sullen, rebellious silence. The more expressive ones return her questions with a smirk, a shrug, or a roll of the eyes. When she glances down at her attendance record, and starts calling out names, the students will typically answer in silence or in any of the predictable ways thus:

"_She sick."_

"_He gone."_

"_He absent."_

"_Why do I need to answer that?"_

"_Beats me."_

"_Bite me."_

"_I don't know."_

"_I don't care."_

When she moves on to novels, the silence is even more determined, almost angry, defiant.

"_Did anyone read Mark Twain's 'Huckleberry Finn'?"_

"_How about Charles Dicken's 'Dombey and Son'?"_

"_James Fenimore Cooper's 'Last of the Mohicans'?"_

"_Daniel Defoe's 'Robinson Crusoe'?"_

"_Herman Melville's 'Moby Dick'?"_

She is met by smirks, raised eyebrows, grim faces, impassive expressions. It is like the whole class is determined to make her give up.

When Rachel _does_ elicit response from the students, the response is typically,

"_This book is crap."_

"_It's shit, is what it is."_

"_This is racist."_

"_This book is boring."_

"_This book is too long."_

"_This book has too many words."_

"_This book has too many big words."_

"_Can we just watch the movie instead?"_

"_This book is too hard."_

"_I don't get why we have to _read_ anyway. I'mma gonna go on American Idol and be really famous!"_

* * *

When she finally raises this difficulty she has in class, to her friend Gloria, behind the bleachers, during those breaks where they take turns puffing on a cigarette (a bad habit Rachel is trying to kick) in a rant that includes the fact that the students do not _read_, and it is a testament to how atrocious and terrible American education is that students can hardly be motivated to read and that students cannot even motivate themselves to read, Gloria only shrugs.

"That's just the way it is," Gloria says simply, waving a dismissive hand away, as if to swat Rachel's issues away. Gloria then proceeds to talk about the size, frequency, color of her husband's bowel movement and how it impacts on their life. Rachel cringes and attempts to listen to her one and only friend at Taft High School.

* * *

One by one, as Mr. Smith predicted, the students drop like flies, or like falling leaves, from Rachel's class.

One by one they come to her, with a slip of paper for her to sign. It has become routine for her then, the students who come to her, asking her to sign the slip of paper that indicates they are dropping the class.

At first, she asks them why. The reasons are varied: money, family, job, moving out, moving on, moving to another state, perhaps another country, being pregnant, getting somebody pregnant, but in the end, one reason bleeds into another, one face blending into another, until she cannot remember which face is which.

* * *

It is getting colder in her classroom, but the heater is broken, and the windows, which keep getting broken and which keep getting replaced, cannot keep the cold out. Most of the desk chairs are broken, or are in badly need of repair or are accidents waiting to happen. The textbooks and literature books are few and far between. The few that have survived are tattered, dog-eared, smudged, and are missing pages. Students come to class with little or no school supplies. Most do not come to class prepared, choosing instead to take a nap _during_ class, or not come to class at all.

She knows about all this. Has read up on it. Has seen the news reports. The documentaries. And yet, it is still surprising, being right in the middle of all of this.

* * *

Rachel once asks Gloria where the library is.

Gloria silently takes her to the library. The library is closed. The library, Gloria says, has been closed since before the Hilary Clinton administration. "There's just no funding," Gloria says, simply. "These kids come from low-income families. They usually come from single-parent families, where the parent in question is usually working two jobs and is too tired or too broke or just does not care enough about the kid's studies to help. Even if it were a two-parent family, it would be the same. I dare you to motivate them with little to no funding from schools or support from their families."

Rachel is afraid she is beginning to forget why she is doing this in the first place.

She still only has one friend: Gloria Gomez.

Everyone else seems to think she is a snob.

* * *

Once, when she raises this feeling that everyone in school must think she is a snob, over dinner, Santana looks at her, and says, carefully, "Honey, you _are_ a snob."

Rachel glares at her, "You're not helping."

Santana smiles a bit and points out, "You were the one who dragged me to all those pretentious art events in London."

Suzie, who is usually quiet these days, says, "But you kind of are, Mee."

"Suzie!" Rachel says, shocked, although she takes note that Suzie is actually speaking, which is a good thing. Today, she had picked up Suzie from ballet practice at the new dance studio that Santana had moved her to, at her new colleague, Miranda Vanderbilt's suggestion. Miranda, apparently, had a friend of a friend of a friend who ran the studio. The transfer to a new dance studio seems to have helped lift Suzie's mood. Lately she has been more talkative. Rachel notes there is a faint bruise on Suzie's wrist. She makes a note to ask her about it later, without Santana's probing eyes.

Presently, Rachel says, "I thought you were on my side!"

"I _am_," the child says. "But you still kind of _are_."

"She's right, you know," Santana says.

Rachel glares at her even more.

"What? Are you going to withhold se….." and then stops when she realizes Suzie is in the room.

"That's probably a bad idea," Suzie matter-of-factly says. "She'll probably be cranky the whole week!"

A quick blush spreads on Santana's face, as both she and Rachel say, "Suzie!"

Suzie shrugs. There is silence at the table as everyone tries to regain their composure. Presently Suzie clears her throat and says, softly, "My friend Kate got a new puppy."

Rachel looks up, smiles at her and gives her an encouraging nod, waiting for her to go on.

"It's this really cute, little puppy with short, short legs and a long body and it's spotted and when it barks it kind of squeaks and it's too, too cute and she showed me the video from her cellphone and can we have a dog, too?" Suzie says in quick succession, looking at Santana with bright, shiny, hopeful pleading, eyes, Brittany's eyes, before she looks down at her food again.

Rachel looks at Santana, bites her lower lip, as Santana says, "No."

"But mom, I will totally take care of it, I promise," Suzie says, dark blue eyes piercing her mother with a pleading look. "I'll feed it, I'll give it a bath, I'll take it for walks, I'll make sure to train it…It won't be much trouble, I promise…"

"I said no," Santana says, putting down her fork, looking at her daughter with narrowed eyes.

Suzie knows better than to insist the point, but she mutters, "I don't understand what the big deal is…"

"The big deal is we don't have enough space for a dog, the landlord doesn't allow pets and even though you promise to take care of it, I'm pretty sure I'll end up doing all that stuff you promised you'd do," Santana says.

"I can, too, take care of a dog," Suzie says stubbornly.

"We can't afford a dog," Santana suddenly says, annoyed. "We don't have the time for it, okay?"

"Fine. Would you rather I ask for a younger sister or brother instead?" Suzie asks, pretending innocence.

Rachel almost sputters on the water she is drinking. Santana looks at Suzie with a warning look on her face. "Do you want to be grounded, young lady?"

Suzie looks down at her food and stares at it.

There is silence at the table as everyone slowly resumes eating.

"Anyway, I don't understand why these kids don't want to learn Faulkner, Melville, Wordsworth, Edgar Allan Poe, Mark Twain, Charles Dickens…" Rachel presently says, when they have sufficiently recovered from Suzie's comment.

"Honey, no offense but, education has always tried to homogenize people…tried to impose a set of rules that didn't apply to everyone," Santana says, quietly. "It assumes everyone learns at the same pace, assumes these are the things that students want to learn."

"I don't know about that," Rachel says. "I just know education is important. And I don't understand why these students would take it for granted. It's free, it could take them places. It's like what T.S. Eliot said, 'It is in fact the function of education to help us escape - not from our own time - for we are bound by that - but from the intellectual and emotional limitations of our time.'"

"But education will always be bound by the intellectual and emotional limitations of our time," Santana points out.

Suzie is quiet as she watches Rachel and Santana debate at the dining table. She then looks down at her food, which has suddenly taken on a more interesting hue. When they continue like this for a few seconds, Suzie bites her lower lip, quietly pushes her chair back, gets her plate, fork and knife, heads to the sink and silently puts them in it. The women do not notice her getting up.

"Ugh. People always seem to look at education as some kind of solution for everything," Santana says. "It's not. The fact of the matter is, education does nothing but perpetuate the status quo. It produces the kind of mindless automatons we have right now. It's like practice for the real world or something."

"I still believe education can change the world," Rachel says.

"God, what is wrong with you?" Santana suddenly says, suddenly annoyed. "Are you really this naïve? Why are you teaching these kids? Are you trying to assuage some privileged white person guilt inside you or something?"

Rachel is taken aback for a few moments by Santana's outburst, but she recovers enough to say, "How can you be this cynical?"

Santana rolls her eyes, sits back, folds her arms in front of her, stares at Rachel. Rachel stares back at her, equally defiant.

They are quiet for the rest of their dinner. It is then that they notice Suzie is missing. Neither one has the heart to call her back to the table.

* * *

They are still quiet and not talking to each other when they head to the bedroom. Santana already has her laptop in front of her, scanning the New York Times, Wall Street Journal and Washington Post for the day's latest news, trendy, turtle-framed glasses perched on her nose, fingers flying on the keyboard swift as wings. She is probably revising a brief she is working on as well, for the case she is working on with Miranda Vanderbilt on immigration. She is wearing a tank top and shorts, feet stretched out and crossed at the ankles. She is wearing headphones, and Rachel does not need to check to know she is listening to rock music (The Script, maybe), her music of choice when she is annoyed. Rachel is silent, noiseless, as she brushes her teeth, washes her face, exfoliates, moisturizes, brushes her hair a hundred times and emerges from their bathroom in her pajamas. Earlier she had tried to talk to Suzie about the bruise on her wrist, but Suzie had been evasive, refused to look her in the eye, said she needed to make her homework. Rachel thus goes back to their bedroom, feeling defeated. Santana and Suzie can sometimes be so alike at times.

Santana does not glance up now, is intent on studying her laptop screen, left hand perched on it, scrolling down on the screen.

Rachel sighs. She already knows trying to talk to Santana when she is pissed off like this is pointless. She makes her way to the bed, grabs a red ball pen and the sheaf of papers she needs to grade (the few anyway that have been passed to her by the handful of students who cared enough), settles down on the right side of the bed, and starts reading it one paper at a time.

When Santana does not make a move at all from her side of the bed, Rachel leans back, closes her eyes, and croaks out the words, "I'm sorry."

Santana stops, knits her eyebrows, pulls out one earphone, looks at Rachel and asks, "What?"

It is scary, sometimes, to have Santana annoyed like this at her. Santana looks at her with her impassive face, eyes expressionless, like something has been turned off inside her. Like she does not care. It scares her sometimes, how easily Santana can detach herself from her like this. Rachel hates it when they argue. All she wants now is for Santana to hold her. Unfortunately, Santana being Santana, manipulation, feminine wiles, do not work on her like they do on men, so Rachel goes for the easiest, most direct route. She apologizes.

"I'm sorry," she says, simply, as Santana looks at her. "I've had a bad day."

Santana is silent. Just stares at her. Rachel avoids the probing gaze Santana is giving her now. Finally, Santana speaks.

"You've been having a lot of those lately," Santana points out.

"I know," Rachel says. "I'm sorry. It's just…every day I kind of prepare so much for my classes. And every day I go in hoping it would be a different day. And every day I get my hopes dashed. "

Santana only listens as she continues, "Today, I went in with a PowerPoint presentation on a Herman Melville story…but there was no power…and somebody spilled soda on my laptop…and it _died_…I don't know why I am doing this in the first place…"

Santana sighs. "Didn't I warn you about this before?"

"I know," Rachel says dejectedly.

"Didn't I tell you it was going to be hard?" Santana continues.

"I know," Rachel says softly.

"Didn't I tell you this wasn't Ohio? That this is _Brooklyn_, for god's sake?" Santana asks.

"I know," Rachel repeats the words, not knowing what else to say.

"These kids won't be saved by an hour a day of some literature or lesson on _life_, honey," Santana says. "This isn't like in the _movies_. Or those stupid TV shows that always end in Kodak moments every week. You can't _save_ them."

Rachel is silent. "What do you want me to do then? Quit?"

She feels Santana move, the bed sheets rustle, sees the laptop from the corner of her eye being lifted from Santana's lap so she can move to Rachel's side. Presently, Santana puts her hands on Rachel's face, lifts her face up so she is staring in Santana's dark eyes. She is so close that Rachel can see her long lashes. Santana tilts her face, moves to place her lips on Rachel's, and kisses her tenderly.

"I didn't say that," Santana says. "Besides, it's a little bit too late for that, isn't it? And the Rachel I know doesn't quit anyway."

Rachel sighs, kisses Santana again, relieved Santana is not angry at her anymore. "I'm sorry."

Santana just waves her hand away, as if to say, it is fine. "Please, you know you've put up with worse from me."

Rachel grins. "That's true."

"But, god, you can be so _annoying_!" Santana says. "This is exactly why we couldn't get along in high school! Sometimes you just come off as so naïve, clueless, bossy, obnoxious, self-righteous _know-it-all_…so..ugh…_entitled…_"

Santana tries to smile, in an attempt to soften her words, but Rachel feels like she wants to vanish, wants the ground to open and swallow her up. She attempts to laugh, but cannot. "Entitled? Me?"

"Yeah," Santana says. "Why do you think I was always on you all throughout high school? Why do you think Mercedes and I left the club senior year and formed our own club? You _always_ kept getting the solos. We almost never did. I mean, no offense, but we were just as talented as you were, but we never sang as many solos as you did. You only brought Mercedes out when you needed somebody to wail on the last note. Tina never even _had_ solos. _Ever._ I mean come _on_, Tina can sing better than Finn and Kurt combined! Finn can't even dance! Kurt just does that annoying, distracting shimmying thing. My first year in Glee Club, I only sang a couple of lines for Regionals. My second year? I only sang 'Valerie'. I was also the lips in the 'Rocky Horror Show'. Everything was just so _racist_, you know?"

"Racist? How can you say that?"

"Come on, Rach, it _was_ racist. This was _Lima_ freaking Ohio we're talking about here, the one place I wanted to get as far away from as possible," Santana says. "We ate racism for breakfast. We got a lot of shit from everyone, all the time, even from Mr. Schuester. Had Mercedes and I not left New Directions senior year, we would still have been stupidly harmonizing in the back for you, your very own freaking back-up singers. It was the Rachel _Berry_ show…I only stayed because being in the Glee Club? _Singing?_ That was the best part of my day."

Rachel is silent, taking in what she is saying. It is the first time Santana actually speaks of this. Santana's outburst surprises her a bit, as Santana continues, "Why do you think I was angry and bitchy all that time? I liked Coach Sue because who I was? Who I slept with? That didn't matter to her. She liked me because I had leadership potential. I put up with her because of that. I mean she and Brittany got me that scholarship to Kentucky! While Mr. Schue was forcing us to watch that godawful 'Saturday Night Fever'! The only thing that made it all bearable was Brittany. I don't think I could have survived high school without her."

"I…" Rachel starts to say something. Stops. Tries again. The mention of Brittany's name gives her a vague ache, like an ancient wound, a scar, deep beneath her heart, that has been pricked, twisted, turned. After all these years, the mention of her name still elicits this kind of response from Rachel. There is a slight feeling of jealousy there…knowing there is a part of Santana that she can never have, never _access_, a part of Santana that will always belong to Brittany.

Presently, Rachel says, "I…I'm sorry. I didn't know…"

"You must have known, baby," Santana says. "You must have always known…"

Rachel realizes that yes, she must have known. Must have always known about the racism and homophobia that pervaded McKinley High and Lima, Ohio. She had just chosen to ignore it. She is ashamed of this.

"And don't get me started on how sexist that place is!" Santana continues. "Mr. Schuester was such a sexist, condescending asshole. And the homophobes! Starting with your ex-boyfriend!" "

Rachel's head jerks up at the mention of Finn.

Oblivious to Rachel's reaction, Santana continues, "Sometimes I can't believe you guys went out. Sometimes, I still wonder what you saw in that jerk. It still makes me mad, just thinking about all of it. Sometimes I can't believe I survived all that!"

"Sometimes I can't believe I'm with you actually. I kind of never thought I'd end up being with the one person I couldn't stand in high school," Santana says, thoughtfully. "I never, in a million years, would have thought I'd fall for the freak that annoyed me in high school, just 'cause she was an obnoxious, annoying, entitled little diva."

Santana is smiling as she is saying this now. Rachel smiles back, weakly.

"I'm sorry," Rachel says now. "Still love me?"

Santana rolls her eyes. Rachel knows the answer even if Santana does not supply it. The truth of the matter is, Rachel has always known who and what she is. Santana just loves her in spite of whatever shortcomings she has. Rachel smiles at her. Santana gives her a tender smile, reaches up and rubs her cheek with the back of her hand. She leans over Rachel and kisses her again.

"And this is exactly what will make you succeed in Taft High, baby. It's what made you successful now. Go annoy the hell out of those students!" Santana half-jokes, as she pulls back. She gets, up, puts her laptop on the table near their bed, and goes to their closet. She then pulls out a medium-sized paper bag. When Rachel catches a glimpse of the bag, it says "Chapters" on it, the name of a local bookstore by the corner. "I know you can do it."

Santana hands the bag to Rachel.

"What's this?" Rachel asks, as she opens the paper bag.

Santana shrugs as she settles down beside Rachel, resting her chin between Rachel's shoulder and neck.

"A reading list," Santana says simply, kissing Rachel's cheek. "For your students. And for you, too also, really. Mostly."

When Rachel looks into the bag, she is surprised to see books by Zora Neale Hurston, Toni Morrison, Alice Walker, Maya Angelou, Bell Hooks, Eldridge Cleaver, Amy Tan, Gabriel Garcia Marquez and Pablo Neruda.

"Honey," Rachel says softly. "You did this for me?"

Rachel shakes her head, cannot believe Santana is doing all this for her.

Santana shrugs. "Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

A smile spreads on Rachel's face. "But you hate going to the bookstore. It's where all the freaks and geeks converge, you said."

Santana shrugs again.

"It's a creepy place, you said."

Santana does not say anything at first. "Anything helps. Besides, if I have to listen to you whine one more time I'm just going to…_explode_…"

"Sorry."

"Whining _so_ doesn't turn me on, baby," Santana says.

"I have also taken the liberty of going to Netflix and cueing up some high school movies we can watch. Maybe that can help. We do it on movie night," Santana continues.

"I thought this wasn't the movies?"

Santana shrugs. "We could probably learn a thing or two. I'm sure Michelle Pfeiffer, Robin Williams and Jack Black could teach you a thing or two about teaching."

She feels so happy she hugs and kisses Santana. She goes back to the books and exclaims, "Wow. I didn't know you read this stuff. I didn't know you read _at all_."

Santana snorts. "Snob!"

When Rachel just laughs, Santana says, casually, "You never asked. You know one of the granddads is part African American. And _Mami_ made me read Latin American writers. Wanted me to get in touch with my roots or something. And of course I _read!_ I just haven't had enough time recently. What with work and Suzie and _you_. We've been going out this long and you didn't know I _read?_ That is sad, Rach. That is really sad."

Rachel gives her an apologetic smile, takes out each one, fingers the covers. She breathes in the smell of newness. "My god, San, I can't believe you give me so much crap for being a geek, but you are such a geek, too!"

"I am _not,_" Santana says indignantly.

"You are, too," Rachel insists. "Remember those Batman comic books I saw stashed between your clothes?"

Santana smiles sheepishly. "Hey, it's Batman!" Santana says defensively. "If you tell anyone, you're going to get in so much trouble with me. Have to protect my street cred."

Rachel laughs. "Or lack of it thereof," she points out.

Santana gives her a thin smile, ignoring the last remark, then she shrugs. "I read and studied stuff I was into. Doesn't make me a geek. No _way_ I'm a geek. I thought high school was a waste of time but my education though? That mattered to me. That was why I wanted Mr. Schue fired. He was just awful. I couldn't even…ugh…He was a Spanish teacher who didn't know how to teach Spanish. That pissed me off. At least Coach Sue was a _real_ teacher."

"And oh!" Santana says, remembering something else. "I'm teaching you how to drive, too. I still don't know why you just didn't get your permit at sixteen like everyone else!"

Rachel pouts. She has never bothered to learn how to drive, like a true New Yorker completely dependent on the subway, taxi cabs and, in her case, chauffeurs. Their present set-up though, where Rachel has to pick Suzie up sometimes has made it impossible for her to just take taxi cabs and the subway every time she needs to.

Santana does not wait for Rachel to protest. Rachel was going to learn how to drive and that was that. Santana presently gets the books and paper bag from Rachel, sets it down by the bed. "Enough of this," Santana says, as if she herself is being overwhelmed by how cheesy she is being tonight. "There's just one thing here I want to show you."

Santana pulls out the book by Pablo Neruda, shows it to Rachel and grins. "My favorite poet."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Santana says, riffling through the pages, before she finds the page she is looking for and sets it on Rachel's thighs. "This is my favorite poem."

Rachel looks at the words, realizes they are in Spanish and looks at Santana. Santana moves closer to her, feels her breath on her cheeks, feels her left arm snaking around Rachel, her right hand on Rachel's thighs, tracing lazy circles on them. Despite herself, Rachel feels a shiver of anticipation.

Rachel remembers those times when Santana would just softly say Spanish poems to her, in her ear, and each time they ended up making love in their bedroom. Rachel would not admit it but there are times when Santana can seduce her just by the strength of a few poems sexily spoken in Spanish in her low, husky voice.

Santana leans over now and whispers in her, "_Te amo sin saber cómo__." _She kisses Rachel on the neck and murmurs "_ni cuándo, ni de dónde__," _then proceeds to kiss her on the cheek, "_te amo directamente sin problemas ni orgullo,__" _and finally, she moves and kisses Rachel on the lips, "_así te amo porque no sé amar de otra manera__."_

Rachel blushes, feels a surge of warmth, desire, love for Santana. She turns and her hands come up to cup Santana's face in them.

"_Sino así de este modo en que no soy ni eres," _Santana says softly as she continues to kiss her tenderly, reaching for Rachel's silk pajama blouse, unbuttoning each one as she continues to brush her lips on Rachel's. Rachel moves to allow Santana to undress her.

Rachel weaves her arms around Santana as Santana shifts, settles on top of her, settles into Rachel's curves easily. Santana places a delicate kiss on Rachel's lips, runs her tongue on her lips, breathes in Rachel's scent.

"_Tan cerca que tu mano sobre mi pecho es mía,"_ Santana continues as she reaches for Rachel's pajama pants and slowly pulls them down Rachel's thighs.

"_Tan cerca que se cierran tus ojos con mi sueño…" _Santana's voice trails off as she makes her way down Rachel's smooth body, lips brushing a searing trail on Rachel's skin, from her throat to her breasts to her stomach to her thighs. She moves her hips so as to allow Santana more room as she feels her tug at her underwear, feels her push it down her thighs and legs.

Santana comes back up to meet Rachel's lips in a passionate kiss, pulsing with vibrant heat and she begins to press herself into Rachel with urgency, want, _need_, and Rachel responds with equal fervor, their bodies writhing in sync and stress, hearts beating as one, until Rachel can no longer tell where she ends and Santana begins.

Moments later, entwined with Santana, in heat and warmth and sweat, Rachel throws her head back, arches her back, comes in waves, like the ebb and flow of ocean waves, against her. She clings to Santana, eyes closed, as Santana holds her tightly, like she is never letting her go, like she is the most precious jewel in the world, each wave flowing through Rachel, like explosions of song and syncopation, and the only concrete thought in her mind as she buries her face in Santana's neck is, _I love you so much, I want to marry you, I want to be with you for the rest of my life…_

* * *

_**Author's end notes:**_

_**Thanks for reading! Reviews always welcome! **_**:) **

**_parker88 –Thanks for your kind review, it is always encouraging. Kind of sleep-deprived and hopped up on nicotine and caffeine, hence the speedy updating. :-)_**

**_w1cked – "Rachel working in Brooklyn priceless" – Isn't it just?! :-) As for Suzie…you'd have to wait and find out. :) Glad to have made you happy, re: continuation of the series._**

**_DragonsWillFly – Many thanks, again, for going over this chapter, as well as for the encouragement, positive comments, patience, emails, etc. :) It is much appreciated._**

**_Also, the poem I included here was the last two stanzas of Pablo Neruda's "Sonnet XVII". _**

**_Also, also, I know this chapter is a bit more political than the last couple of stories I wrote, but I felt like it would have to be brought up if Rachel is to teach in Brooklyn - plus "Glee" sometimes kind of came off as offensive to different kinds of people, and I felt that had to be raised a bit here as well. Thanks for trusting me on this aspect of the story. _:) **


	5. Game Changer

**_Author's note: Dear readers, chapter 5 is up! Thank you for your patience and for bearing with me. Hope you enjoy this!_**

* * *

Rachel makes her way through the crowded hallways of William Taft High, trying not to get jostled and shoved and pushed around by the students roaming and rushing and running, or standing around chatting with their friends. It is the end of a school week, a Friday, on a cold autumn day and the regular student assembly with Principal Abrams has just finished, it is recess and so the students have no need to rush to their classes, and are taking their time going to their classes, despite the fact that Abrams is patrolling the hallways with security guards. Earlier during the assembly, when he was making his routine speech, one of the students suddenly stood up and swung a heavy chain around, to the surprise of the other students and teachers. One of the shop teachers, PE teachers and Mr. Smith managed to pull him down from off the chair he was standing on and grab the chain from him. This is a regular occurrence during assembly, a student or two always trying to do something strange or out of the ordinary.

Kids have not changed since she went to high school all those years ago. It feels like a small community, or a country maybe, with different tribes of people, instinctively converging, drawn to their own kind. Santana has encouraged her to learn more about these communities, get to know her students, learn about their background, their experiences. This is what her grandmother from her mother's side used to do, Santana says, when she was a teacher teaching Spanish in Puerto Rico, before she left the country. Her grandmother had been originally from Cuba. Her grandfather is from Puerto Rico. They had immigrated to America, to Brooklyn, when Santana's mother was barely pubescent. They had eventually moved to Ohio after. Rachel knows Santana does not miss the irony of being a person of Latin American roots who speaks Spanish like a white person, someone who, her family thinks, has lost touch with her roots. There is also the irony of having gone back and living in Brooklyn, home of a sizable Puerto Rican population, which is also not lost on Santana's family. Santana has, however, made more of an effort to speak the language much more fluently. Santana rarely speaks of what life was like, pre-McKinley High and pre-Rachel Berry, but as they stay longer in Brooklyn, Santana slowly reveals what life was like before she and Rachel had moved in together.

Rachel now weaves her way through the thick throng of students and sees the jocks in their red varsity jackets, the Taft High Panthers red and black colors sewn on the jackets, leaning by the lockers or the walls. They are led by Anferny Parnell (she is surprised she is beginning to remember names of students, where before she cannot), a tall, broad-shouldered, stoic young man with smooth, olive skin and a permanent, impassive, bored expression on his face. He reminds her a little of Mercedes' senior year boyfriend and Finn, just because he exudes that kind of leadership stance and command respect from other students. Mostly he reminds her of the actor Blair Underwood. He is popular and generally well-liked, like most jocks are. He plays for the football team, the wrestling team and the basketball team as well. He is in her English and homeroom class. She remembers him, she realizes now, because unlike the other students, he does not give her a hard time. She has not figured out whether this is a good thing or a bad thing – as it might mean he likes her, or he just does not care for the class or for her. She wants to believe it is the former, but she knows it is probably the latter. She does remember him as well because he had written a thoughtful essay on Mark Twain and nineteenth century perceptions of race relations in his novels. It had a lot of grammatical errors, misspelled words, and sentence structures that run into each other, but she could tell he had exerted effort on the essay. He does not speak in class though and hardly shows interest in any of their discussions, but his essays and homework are promising. This makes him different from Finn, who, she remembers, cringing, thought he got Quinn pregnant during a hot tub make-out session, constantly struggled in his classes and sometimes embarrassed her with the kind of antics he made in school.

Surrounding Anferny are his posse, the group of jocks, friends and students that follow him around wherever he is. They are standing around, by the lockers, where he is holding court, listening intently to whoever is speaking. She can already pick them out. Baz Parks, a muscled, talkative young man in dreads, given to innuendos and jokes, a regular Lothario and a player who never seems to run out of young women to charm. He is best friends with Anferny. He reminds her a little of Puck, a darker-skinned black version of him and also of that guy from that Julia Stiles movie "Save the Last Dance". She and Santana have been watching high school movies during movie night and they have just watched this particular movie.

McG, another, tall, lanky young man in corn rows and glasses who was busted once for weed possession was absent for a few days and was back in her class. She would not be surprised if he is caught again. Like Anferny, he has interesting ideas about their classes, although mostly he finds them boring and on more than one occasion has said that it is a waste of his time. He, in turn, reminds her a little of a younger Taye Diggs, from when she and Santana watched that Angela Bassett movie, "How Stella Got Her Groove Back".

Kareem, another student, the one who refuses to be called by his "slave name", perpetually wears something African on his person, an African shirt, African cap, a necklace made of shark's teeth and so on. He is very opinionated, and not a class goes by where he will call something racist and he has become so predictable that if he does not call something racist in class at least once, Rachel thinks there is something missing in class. He, in turn, reminds her of Matt. Briefly she wonders whatever happened to Matt, as he was in Glee Club sophomore year and quietly disappeared the year after. Nobody knew where he was. Jamal Holmes rounds out their group, a smaller young man with medium build who always gets into fights, and usually takes the other guys with him. There is a scar on his face, a long angry line that starts from his forehead and continues on down his left eye brow, left cheek and disappears down his jaw. He always looks sullen and angry. The uniform of choice of most of the young men in this group (and pretty much everywhere in the school, really) are baggy tees and jeans, sometimes, if not all the time, unwashed, un-ironed and bearing some design that she does not understand, with accessories that usually consist of baseball caps, large silver or gold necklaces, earrings, rings and other kinds of _"bling"_, a word that Santana had once taught her.

All of them are juniors, and are, sometimes or most times in her class.

Anferny catches her looking at him and does not register any expression of acknowledgement on his face, and instead goes back to listening to whatever Baz, McG and Kareem are arguing about. Gloria (and Santana) had warned her about making eye contact with students. Or making eye contact with anyone outside within a twenty-mile radius of the school ("Thirty just to be safe," Gloria adds). Gloria had also given her an orientation about the various "turfs" and "turf wars" that the students and their gangs had, and which areas in and around and surrounding the school that Rachel needed to avoid. Violence sometimes erupted when two rival gangs met in each other's turf. Toilets, cafeterias, the front of the school, the back of the school and so on are areas in which students of similar interests, mostly from the same culture, converge. She has witnessed some fistfights in the cafeteria, a couple in the hallways, some in the school yard, by the track and field, and just outside the school building. Once, as she stepped out of the brick building, she heard a couple of gunshots and had immediately dropped to the ground. It had been an unsuccessful drive by, the target gang member from Taft High getting off bullet-free. Each time, she finds herself feeling like she is about to have a heart attack, heart pounding so fast she feels like it is going to explode from her chest, the fear and anxiety so palpable Gloria had found her frozen, unable to move by the steps of the school. Gloria had comforted her then, that day of the drive-by, made sure she had fully recovered before allowing her to go home. Gloria had offered her a lift, Rachel had thanked her, told her to just drop her off somewhere near Greenburg Hill Gardens. That night, Rachel was quiet, unable to explain everything to Santana without Santana flying off into an angry tirade and demanding that she quit from Taft High immediately. There are a few things she has decided to keep from Santana, editing some parts of her day when they talk about how their day went. She knows Santana suspects there is more than meets the eye to Rachel's stories, especially when she notices that Rachel's eyes are puffy and red (Rachel has cried more than once after coming back from school. She _never_ lets her students see her cry) but she does not probe or ask further questions and Rachel is grateful for this.

She can spot the cheerleaders by another set of lockers, where Kenyatta West, head cheerleader is holding her own court with the other cheerleaders. Predictably she is with Anferny, and has the same kind of attitude as Quinn had in high school that Kenyatta might as well be her doppelganger. She leads the girls in Rachel's class in _not_ participating in any and all forms of class discussion. Her friends, Maya Hanley, the co-captain and Hannah Turner, are quiet and prone to following whatever Kenyatta says or wants to do.

Rachel notes that unlike Coach Sue Sylvester, who, for some inexplicable reason, requires her Cheerios to wear their cheerleading uniforms with the short, short skirts, Taft High's cheerleaders only wear the Taft High Panthers red and black jackets. She remembers those McKinley Cheerio uniforms as particularly distracting, and sometimes found herself staring at and _admiring_, Santana's thighs, which, more often than not, where in the skirts, come rain or shine or snow in Lima, Ohio. Santana's thighs still look the same way they did in high school, except fuller, sexier than they were then. She remembers admiring Brittany's and Quinn's own assets as well, but she found Santana the sexiest among the Cheerios, an idea she had never entertained for more than a second, and would never admit to anyone ever.

Looking now at Anferny and Kenyatta and their posse, she thinks to herself, they are archetypes. This is what her literature and literary theory books would call them. Anferny and Kenyatta as high school archetypes of the typical adolescents, like she and Finn were archetypes of high school so long ago…

There are other young women in their group, whose names escape her now. Rachel realizes her memory is not good as she thought it was.

Another group of students, this time of Middle-Eastern or South Asian descent, usually noticeable by their Moslem garb, or caps, converge in another part of the hallway. She spots a young man, Abdul, who is in her class. He also does not acknowledge her when he sees her.

There is also another Asian contingent, East or South East Asian, a Latino/Latina group and the white kids, who, predictably stick together, never leaving each other's side, and always looking like they are perpetually petrified. There is also a Jewish contingent and an Eastern European contingent (Russian, Ukrainian, Czech) amongst the crowd. She does not always know the difference, but once they start speaking, she can start telling the difference. Most of these children, Gloria has told her, are only waiting until they turn sixteen, when they can officially drop out. Most of them they will never see again, Gloria says, only suddenly and unceremoniously turn up in the papers, or on the local news or online, as a body, or a suspect, faces hardly recognizable, more sullen, angry, defiant, exhausted, before the news moves on to the next. "It is as it is," Gloria says. "You cannot save them all."

As she makes her way to her classroom, she catches a glimpse of the large glassed-in bulletin board near Principal Abrams' office, where photos of winning members of clubs and their advisers, teams, with ribbons, certificates and trophies are posted over the years. She spots the cork board near it, where a poster is posted. She is curious about it and approaches the poster.

The poster is in red, yellow and blue, with a picture of a group of singers dressed in church clothes in what appears to be a choir. There are bold letters above the picture that encourage everyone to "Join the biggest youth choir competition this side of New York", that is sponsored by the local TV station, the local radio station, PizzaHut, Gibson, Sony Music and Universal. Rachel does not know why but her heart starts to beat fast as she sees that it is a local choir competition, open to young people ages 14 to 19 enrolled in public schools. There is an audition, an elimination round, quarter finals, semi-finals and grand finals. Prize for the winning choir is ten thousand dollars, six thousand dollars for the second place and three thousand dollars for the third place, with trophies, certificates and a donation to the school.

As she stares up at the poster, a familiar voice from behind says, "Hey," and she feels someone tap her arm lightly. She turns to see Gloria Gomez, smiling her trademark grin as she hooks her arm into Rachel's and leads her out of the hall.

"Hey, what's up? You have that look on your face," she says to Rachel, indicating that thinking look Rachel has. "Have a few minutes to spare for a cigarette break?"

"Oh, god, yes," Rachel says, relieved she can escape the building for a few more minutes. She checks her watch and sees that they still have time.

* * *

At the back of the bleachers, watching the steely, somber sky, Rachel watches the cigarette smoke slowly waft up the air, taking her thoughts with it. With much dejection, she refuses the cigarette that is offered to her, as she is afraid her throat might be damaged, although it has been a couple of years since her operation.

Gloria does not say anything when Rachel refuses the cigarette.

"My husband likes musicals," Gloria suddenly says, in between puffs of smoke.

The sentence sounds like a statement, does not seem to invite comment, so Rachel chooses not to comment, although she briefly wonders what Gloria wants to say further. By now, Rachel is used to Gloria's too-much-information monologues, so she waits for her to go on.

"I was never one to like those things," Gloria continues, "It seemed gay, you know?"

Rachel smiles, remembering the many times in which the male members of their high school Glee Club used to be called gay for liking singing and dancing in costumes and make-up. She wonders why people would think it is gay to want to sing and dance your heart out in front of a stage. But, growing up with two gay dads, having a gay best friend and now, being in a gay relationship, Rachel never understood homophobia. She always thought of it as pointless nonsense.

Gloria continues to smoke, then adds, "I cannot tell you the number of times he used to play 'Rocky Horror Show' at home. It seemed very strange. It is hard to picture my 200 pound husband enjoying a song like, 'Sweet Transvestite'."

Gloria looks at her, smiles. "He has this CD, this twenty fifth anniversary collector's edition of 'Rent' that features performance from different actors who played the characters over the years."

Rachel still wonders what she is getting at, but offers no comment.

Gloria takes a puff of her cigarette again and says, "I was wondering why you looked familiar. I thought like I'd seen you before, somewhere."

Rachel feels something akin to a vague nervousness, anxiety. She does not know why, but she feels it nonetheless.

"Then last night, my husband was playing the CD and I saw you on the inside jacket and I realized then where I'd seen you. In fact, I played the song where your voice was featured, and that was _definitely_ you," Gloria finishes, as she drops what's left of the cigarette on the ground and crushes it with her boot. "You never told me you were a big Broadway star."

Rachel bites her lower lip, does not know what to say. She does not know what to say. It feels strange, it is not really an accusation, but it feels like one, like she has deliberately hidden this part of her and now Gloria feels a bit hurt that she did not trust her enough to tell her about this. But at the same time, Rachel had never wanted to raise her Broadway background in the first place. It was her own business after all. Besides, she just did not want to have to answer questions about leaving an admittedly successful Broadway career for a life of teaching unruly, rebellious high school students. She did not want having to explain herself to complete strangers, did not want them feeling pity, disappointment, like she has let someone down or something. She already gets that from her parents, Kurt, her friends.

Gloria interrupts her thoughts by saying, "I mean, your name in the jacket was 'Rachel Corcoran' not 'Rachel Berry', but that was you, right? I mean, your voice is pretty unmistakeable…"

Rachel nods, silently. With her permission, Rachel had used Shelby Corcoran's last name, her birth mother, as her stage name. She had wanted to live a relatively normal life devoid of the hassle fame sometimes brings with it, and so had used Cochran instead of Berry. It was also a nod to her birth mother. Finding out about her birth mother the way she did, when she was in high school, was a strange, surreal experience, but she had wanted to pay a small tribute to her for bringing her into the world by using her last name.

Gloria looks at her now, open wonder on her face, as if Rachel is a puzzle that she cannot solve.

"Why?" Gloria asks.

"Why what?" Rachel asks.

"Why did you leave Broadway for a, let's face it, dead-end teaching career in Brooklyn?" Gloria asks. "Why would you leave Broadway for _Brooklyn_?"

A breeze goes through them and Rachel puts her arms around herself, hugs herself, looks down at the ground, does not know what to say. What she can muster though is a half-hearted shrug. She used to know why she would give up Broadway to teach in Brooklyn, but now she is not certain and she does not know how to answer Gloria's question.

"Just wanted to take a break from it, I guess," she offers anyway, muttering it.

"You wanted to take a break from the glitz and glamor of Broadway for the stress and terror of high school teaching in _Brooklyn_?" Gloria asks incredulously.

Rachel laughs. "Well, when you put it like that…"

Gloria seems to feel her discomfort, because she decides the interrogation is over, nods and says, "Well, your secret is safe with me," and attempts to change the subject. "Although…hearing your voice? I think it was meant to fill concert halls…not classrooms and hallways…"

Rachel does not know how to answer that but mercifully, her cellphone rings and she sees that it is Santana. She moves the cellphone screen away from Gloria's nosy, prying eyes, so she does not see Santana's picture in her phone (one of her favorite pictures of Santana, long, wavy hair flowing down, white tank top, smile only for Rachel) excuses herself, moves away a little and answers it.

As soon as she answers it, Santana says, "Hey, babe."

"Hey," Rachel greets her back, comforted by the warmth and affection in Santana's voice.

"I have some bad news for you," Santana says.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Barbara Streisand is dead," Santana says from the other line. "I called you as soon as I heard."

Rachel's heart drops. "What? Are you sure? Are you serious?"

"Yeah, a friend of mine from work mentioned it today, it's all over the internet, they're planning a big tribute to her on Broadway or something," Santana says.

"San…."

Santana suddenly bursts out laughing on the other end of the line. "I'm sorry… I was kidding…She's not dead. Or dying. She's still very much alive…"

"San! That's _so_ not funny!" Rachel says, as she takes a wary look towards Gloria's direction, who has lit another cigarette and is pointedly ignoring Rachel's conversation. She should have known, the minute Santana had called her babe, that Santana was in a light, joking mood. Her teasing or pranks are always prefaced by her calling Rachel, "babe", a word, by the way, that she hates being called, making Santana call her that even more. She has gotten used to it.

Santana continues to laugh as Rachel says, "You're horrible, you know that?"

When Santana just continues to laugh, Rachel rolls her eyes, and says, "Alright, you've had your fun….Is there a reason you're calling?"

Santana recovers from laughing enough to clear her throat and says, "Yeah, there is actually. But just _had_ to do that…Won't be able to make it home in time for dinner, babe. Miranda and I are neck-deep on preparations for the immigration case we have. Do you mind picking Suzie up again? There's some kind of meeting I'm supposed to attend in her school, but I won't be able to make it. You _so_ need to learn how to drive!"

Rachel says she does not mind, so Santana says, "Great!"

"What time will you be home?" Rachel asks.

"Don't know," Santana says. "But I will try to come home as soon as we finish up, okay?"

Rachel does not know what to say next, too conscious of Gloria's presence near her so Santana clears her throat again and says, "And…um…I kind of…called too because…I just wanted to hear your voice…wanted to make sure you were okay…"

Rachel smiles, in spite of herself, trying to hide the smile from Gloria by turning her back even more from her.

"Okay," she mutters into the phone.

"Someone's there, isn't it?" Santana asks, suddenly.

"Yeah," Rachel says.

"Okay," Santana says. "I love you."

"Okay," Rachel says.

"Say it back," Santana says, teasing her now.

"San…"

"Just kidding…but you're in a lot of trouble later!" Santana teases, laughing, "I'll see you later at home. Love you…"

There is a click and a dial tone as Santana turns her cell off.

"Wow, that must be some phone call," Gloria says, from behind.

"Huh? What?" Rachel asks, absent-mindedly.

"You're smiling like you won a million dollars," Gloria points out.

Rachel blushes.

Thankfully, they hear the bell ring, signifying that the break is over. They both make their way to the building.

* * *

When she gets to class, it is predictably noisy, unruly, with paper and a few unidentifiable things (spitwads, spit, she hopes the sticky liquid is not phlegm) flying around, the few white kids in the corner, the handful of Latinos and Latinas, on one side, the few remaining kids on different corners of the room. The African American kids and their friends - Anferny, Baz, McG, Kareem, Jamal, Kenyatta, Maya and Hannah hold court in the middle of the room, where an empty space has been cleared, desk chairs pushed back, as the kids stand around, singing and rapping. Music from someone's iPod, plugged to portable speakers, are playing as the kids sing.

She can see Anferny, sitting behind the singing and rapping kids, watching them. His friends Baz, McG, Kareem and Jamal are standing around listening to Kenyatta, Maya and Hannah sing.

Kenyatta is singing Destiny's Child "Emotions", with her friends, Maya and Hannah. Kenyatta is singing Beyonce's part, while Maya and Hannah do Kelly Rowlands' and the other singer's part. While Rachel is familiar with RnB singers, she has not paid too much attention to them, as she is more obsessed with Broadway show tunes and pop songs. She thanks Santana for introducing her to the music, who sometimes plays the music at home, or in their car, insisting Rachel must "expand" her horizons, listen to something other than Barbara Streisand.

She listens to them now as they sing the song.

"_(And where were you now?)_

_Now that I need you, oh you (Tears on my pillow)_

_Wherever you, you'll go (I'll cry me a river)_

_That leads to your ocean_

_You never see me fall apart_

_In the words of a broken heart_

Rachel stands by the doorway, transfixed, as Kenyatta harmonizes with her friends. Kenyatta has a strong, full, soprano voice, and much like Beyonce, she can sing a word with as many notes as possible, giving the song a much fuller experience. Maya and Hannah also have good voices, their voices blending in beautifully in the background as they sing the chorus together with Kenyatta.

An idea starts to take root in her mind…

_It's just emotions takin' me over_

_Caught up in sorrow, lost in the soul_

_But if you don't come back_

_Come home to me darling_

_Nobody left in this world to hold me tight_

_Nobody left in this world to kiss goodnight_

_Goodnight, goodnight_

A student materializes beside Rachel and Rachel looks over. It is one of the quieter students. He is white and wears glasses and flannel shirts and skin tight skinny jeans that end in Chuck Taylors. He predictably gets bullied by the other students.

"It's a sing off," he offers to no one in particular. "Girls versus boys. They do it sometimes every Friday. They're doing ballads now. They're done with rap."

Rachel nods.

"Yeah, that was _da bomb_," he continues. "_Ferclempt!"_

The song ends and Baz, McG, Kareem and Jamal step up and Baz announces, "My granma be singing better than that, y'all. Yo, check this."

He leans over to look for something in the iPod, finds it and plays it.

McG, Kareem, Jamal take their places, standing around Baz, who stands in the middle of their circle, as the first strains of the song start.

McG, Kareem and Jamal start crooning, harmonizing their voices, as Baz comes in with the first stanza of the song…

_We belong together__  
__And you know that I am right__  
__Why do you play with my heart?__  
__Why do you play with my mind?_

It takes supreme effort for Rachel's jaw not to drop. The song she recognizes as "End of the Road" by Boyz II Men, a group that Santana likes. These kids, kids she had not thought twice about, the same kids who gave her a hard time during her classes with them, the same unruly, rebellious teenagers, seem transformed, as they all sing with Baz. These are the same kids that always get detention, get busted for drug possession, get into fistfights with other students and get suspended. She is surprised at how well they harmonize.

The idea starts to grow...flower in her mind as Baz continues with the next stanza…

_Said we'd be forever__  
__Said it'd never die__  
__How could you love me and leave me and never__  
__Say goodbye?_

_When I can't sleep at night__  
__Without holding you tight__  
_

Then Baz raises his voice as he sings the next part and Rachel cannot help but be impressed. The white boy with glasses, flannel, skinny jeans and Chuck Taylors beside her, murmurs, "Man, that is off the _hook!_"

_Girl, each time I try I just break down and cry__  
__Pain in my head__  
__Oh, I'd rather be dead__  
__Spinning around and around_

Then the four, Baz, McG, Kareem and Jamal come together and sing the chorus,

_Although we've come__  
__To the end of the road__  
__Still I can't let go__  
__It's unnatural__  
__You belong to me__  
__I belong to you__  
__Although we've come__  
__To the end of the road__  
__Still I can't let go__  
__It's unnatural__  
__You belong to me__  
__I belong to you_

She watches the boys sing, each one seeming lost in their own little worlds, eyes closes, voices high, voices blending together, as they sing the song. It is beautiful and it occurs to Rachel that these are the voices she has been hearing whenever she goes to the back of the building with Gloria, sneaking a cigarette during recess.

Rachel does not know, but she hears them sing and she feels like she is back in McKinley High again. Taft High's cold, dank, dirty classroom is transformed into the immaculate halls of McKinley, perpetually well-lit and seemingly endlessly well-funded, with Coach Sue and Mr. Schue and Principal Figgins and Ms. Pillsbury and even Coach Tanaka and briefly, Sandy, roaming the halls, looking for kids to terrorize. She suddenly remembers Glee Club, and Finn and Kurt and Quinn and Mercedes and Tina and Brittany and Santana…always Santana…She remembers the constant in-fighting, the stealing of boyfriends and girlfriends, the cheating, the jealousy, the envy, the backbiting, the backstabbing, the gossiping, the perpetual dissidence. She smiles now at how upset she was when Finn and Quinn got back together junior year, after Finn broke up with her, how Finn broke up again with Quinn to be with her, realizes now how indecisive, annoyingly capricious Finn had been. She remembers how she got really upset when she found out Santana had taken Finn's virginity, smiles now at the memory of it…She remembers all that, but she also remembers also the fact that no matter what happened, they would always come together at the end of the day, and put together a hastily practiced musical production number, forgetting all the pain and heartache and heartbreak to put on a good show…She suddenly remembers how beautifully Mercedes sang, how much soul she gave each song she sang, how Tina sang songs with such simplicity and grace, how Santana, _her_ Santana sang songs in a voice that was a dead ringer for Amy Winehouse's voice, how she gave her all to each song, how she took a song and made it her own, how effortless and unforced she sang. Now Santana only sang in the privacy of their home, or their car, had exchanged a high school teenage dream of a life of fame and fortune for the more stable, secure life of a lawyer. She sometimes wonders if Santana regrets the life she has chosen, the life she chose with Brittany and Suzie, and now with her. She vaguely feels like she does not know if she wants to know the answer to that question…

Presently, she senses Mr. Smith come up behind her. She smells his very strong Axe cologne, a very masculine, musky odor that overpowers every other smell in the room, a smell that sends out the message that he is virile and very much looking for a mate, pretty much like those male lions and hyenas she has seen that one time she and Suzie had hunkered down to watch a feature on the animals of Africa. This follows the way he looks, which is always overdressed, in his tight vests and tight jeans and jacket and perpetually gelled hair that only succeeds in making him look like Blaine from Glee Club: gay and slightly in need of a makeover. She knows he makes every effort to groom himself and really cares for his appearance, but seeing him every day, and especially today, just makes her grateful she is with Santana.

"Dinner and a movie tonight?" Mr. Smith says by way of introduction.

"I'd love to," Rachel says, "But I'm kind of too busy having a life," she finishes before she can stop herself. She curses Santana for the snark she seems to be developing. Maybe a bit of Santana is rubbing off on her.

"Well, don't hurt to ask," Mr. Smith comments, shrugging and grinning.

Rachel rolls her eyes.

"One day, someday, Imma gon' be able to take you out on a date," Mr. Smith says, "Mark my words."

"Sure," Rachel says, "In a million years maybe."

Mr. Smith only grins and says, "What's this?"

Rachel shrugs. "Some kind of sing-off I guess."

"You have to know how to control your class, Ms. Berry," Mr. Smith says, smiling.

Rachel raises an eyebrow, as Mr. Smith steps forward and breaks up the singing. "Aight, yooze guys, that's enough. Some students actually want to _learn_. And stuff. Chairs, everyone! Start hitting the books!"

A chorus of protests punctuated by, "I skeeve that!", cusswords, the scrape of chairs being hastily dragged and re-arranged.

"Awww, studying's a real _scootch_, y'all," Baz says, killing the music and grudgingly pulling a chair to the back of the room.

"Yeah, that shit is _whack_, man," McG agrees.

"Yeah, I'mma gonna whack you on the head if you don' shut up, man," Mr. Smith says.

Rachel rolls her eyes. It is annoying to see white people going street to sound cool. In Mr. Smith's case, he just sounds like a total dork.

When the students have settled down, and Mr. Smith exits (but not before Rachel gives him an appreciative nod and a murmured thank you), Rachel steps forward, just in front of the board, looking at the class.

The class has been significantly reduced since the start of the school year. These are the last ones standing. She gives them a smile before she turns to the board, and feeling a bit like Mr. Schuester during Glee Club practice, she writes something on the board in big, bold figures: "$10,000."

She turns back to the class, and asks them, "What would you do with ten thousand dollars?"

The class is silent. A few knit their brows, scrunch up their noses, tilt their head to one side, cross their arms in front of them, slump down and look at Rachel like she has grown an extra head, or like she is a math problem they are incapable of solving. She can sense that they think this is a bit different from the previous classes with her. She usually starts class by asking the class to open their books to page so and so and without further ado, they would start discussing the day's lesson. Or, rather, she starts to have a discussion about the day's lesson, and hope that the students would respond to her questions and comments. Once, Santana had insisted, during a phone call from her mother that she talk to her mother, as her mother has taught for a time, and comes from a long line of teachers (Rachel had rolled her eyes, and said, "Okay, but we're still _not_ giving your mother a key to the apartment. I don't want her walking in on us like she did last time!"), so she had patiently listened to Santana's mother talk about teaching, and now she is attempting something that Santana's mother has told her: the importance of extrinsic and intrinsic motivation and knowing the students' needs.

As the question dawns on the kids, one by one, they answer:

"I'll buy my own crib!" Baz shouts from the back.

"Fool! Ten Gs ain't enough for a crib, y'all!" Kenyatta says. "Sorry 'bout 'im. He don't know from nothin. A real duh-ta-duh, is what you are."

"Did you see the attitude I got from her? She really thinks who she is, that one," Baz says.

"Nigga shut up. You got a lotta shit wichoo," Kenyatta retorts.

Baz raises his hands as if in surrender and sits back, sullenly.

Rachel tries not to roll her eyes and says, "Okay, how about the others?"

"Buy my own beemer!"

"That ain't enough for that, too, stupid."

"Then I'll buy off someone to off ya, fool!"

"Bling! Lots of bling, Miz B!"

"Yeah, girls like bling! Gonna get me lots of girls, Miz B!"

"Shop, Miz B! Shoes! Lots of shoes!"

"I'll buy my own zoo!"

"Alright, alright, I get it," Rachel says, holding up her hand, as each student tries to answer the question. "Settle down. There's a singing competition, a _choir_ competition, not too far from now, and there's a ten thousand dollar prize money. And since you kids seem to know how to sing, I was wondering if you would like to join."

The students are silent, thinking this over. Finally, Kenyatta pipes up. "What's in it for us?"

"Ten thousand dollars, duh," Baz says.

"Yes, that," Rachel says, grabbing her pen, and going back up to the board, "And everyone gets an A in this class. Starting right now."

Everyone's face takes on a comical, confused look, like they cannot believe their ears.

"Are you serious, Miz B?" Baz asks.

Rachel smiles. She's beginning to like being called "Miz B".

"Nah, she messing with us, y'all," Kareem says.

"That's not racist, I checked," Rachel says, giving him a small smile.

"Screw that, I ain't ever gotten an A," Baz says. "I'm takin' it. Mama gonna die of a heart attack!"

"But there's a catch though," Rachel says.

Everyone groans. They know Rachel enough to be familiar with the conditions of having a class with her.

"What's the catch?" Baz asks. Baz is not talkative for nothing. There is a curious, interested look on his face.

As the students start to grumble, Rachel says, ""You have to keep you're A. And you have to _read_ for class. And you have to win the competitions. Or at least get past the eliminations and quarter finals at least. And, and…you have to audition. We're starting a Glee Club, so we can join the competition, but everyone still has to audition."

"Shit, we have to read?" somebody asks.

"Oh crap," Baz says.

"Yeah, crap for you. 'Cause you can't read for _shit_!" Kenyatta says.

"How am I suppose to keep an A?! I barely keep my Ds!"

"Screw that, you already heard us," Kareem says. "That's _our_ audition."

"It doesn't count if you didn't tell me and I just walked in on you," Rachel says.

Kareem scrunches up his nose, disappointed.

"Auditions next week, to be held tentatively at the auditorium," Rachel says, "Wait for further announcements."

"What does tentative mean?" Baz asks.

"It means _unconfirmed_, stupid," Kareem says.

"And what does _that_ mean?" Baz asks.

"It means it's still not sure, _idiot,_" Kenyatta snaps from in front.

"Shut _up_," Baz says, "I be just askin', y'all."

"You also have to come up with songs you want to sing for the competitions," Rachel says. "And…since you don't seem to be interested in the books William H. Taft and the New York Board of Education wants you to read, then, fine, come up with your own books for class, and we will discuss it. Just make sure to tell all of us in advance so everyone has a chance to read whatever books you are interested in."

There is silence as the class mulls this over.

Finally, Baz stands up, throws his hands out, does a gesture that Rachel has recognized is a street gesture, a kind of swag gesture (Santana has pointed this out to her) and says, "It's in the bag, Miz B!"

Everyone nods and she can feel the atmosphere crackle with something other than her fear and anxiety and terror or the students' indifference, defiance, rage and rebellion: she recognizes it as excitement, hope, _change_.

The bell rings and she nods, gathers up her things for her next class and leaves.

* * *

**_Author's end notes:_**

**_Again, many thanks for bearing with me, for reading this and for your reviews for the past chapters. They have been very encouraging. As always, your kind reviews for this chapter are always welcome and will be much appreciated._**

**_I've been working 7 days a week this past week and have basically given up on sleep, lunchbreaks and recess to post regular updates. :) Many thanks to my beta, DragonsWillFly, who has been patiently editing my stories and for the encouragement and laughter and support! Couldn't have survived without you!_**

**_parker88 – Thanks for your comments re: Santana being sweet and not sugarcoating stuff for Rachel. I wanted to portray a mature adult relationship between them, you see. As for Suzie, you will have to wait and see, but I promise you don't have to wait for long!_**

**_thesilentpath – Thanks for your comments as well. It is very heartwarming to know that you took the time to review my story and that you loved the series. I did want to show that they are in a mature relationship (see comment above). Re: Rachel being naïve – she is though, isn't she?_**

**_kutee – Yes, I wanted to show the difference between Mr. Schuester and Coach Sue because really, Mr. Schuester is the worst teacher in the history of television! Like parker88, you'd have to wait and see, re: Suzie, but as I mentioned, you don't have to wait too long! :)_**

**_w1cked – Thank you for the review!_**

**_To everyone, I encourage you to go to youtube dot com and listen to the music featured here, as that makes for a fuller experience for this alternative version of Glee-in-Brooklyn with Rachel and Santana and Suzie._ :)_  
_**

**_For those who missed it, it's "Emotions" by Destiny's Child and "End of the Road" by Boyz II Men (because my beta and I are nostalgic for the 90s._ :)_ And there are seriously a lot better musical choices than the ones Glee has been offering us up with). Also, also, this story is a tribute to all the inspiring and inspired movies about high school and high school teachers - so if some scenes are familiar, it is a nod to those movies (because darn it, movies can transform! Inspire!Make a difference!). Points for you if you recognize them._**

**_Chapter 6 coming soon!_**


	6. How Do You Know?

_**Author's note: Dear readers, Chapter 6 is up. Hopefully the long wait is worth it and does not disappoint**_**…:-) **_**Happy reading!**_

* * *

A few hours later, Rachel strides through the halls of Green Avenue Academy, heels clicking against the shiny, polished tiles, her figure throwing shadows on the brightly-lit hallway. It is clean, gleaming, immaculate, devoid of students. Each room she passes by, neat, orderly, _new_. There is a feeling of security here, from the guards in front to the age-old sprawling Victorian brick building nestled deep within an immaculately trimmed lawn, surrounded by trees and shrub, tucked away from the prying eyes of the world outside, to the pristine hallways and classrooms.

She finds her way to the principal's office, where Suzie is already outside the office, sitting on one of the chairs, in her maroon uniform of blazer and skirt, white blouse and knee-high socks. The round Green Avenue Academy logo is sewn on the upper left hand side of her chest.

"Hey, honey," Rachel says. "Sorry, I'm a little late."

The school is only a few blocks from Greenburg Hill Gardens, where they live, but it is farther away from Taft High, and even farther away from Santana's office, which is in the city. This means Rachel has to go through a few quite interesting parts of Brooklyn, from Taft High and the surrounding neighborhoods with their tall, old buildings, garbage, bottles, broken glass, newspapers, strewn around, chain linked playgrounds, bums, stray dogs, Jewish shops, Hispanic shops, Middle Eastern shops, Russian shops, which gradually change into more posh, cleaner neighborhoods, as she leaves the inner city, until she finally finds herself near Greenburg, where it's so quiet and peaceful and clean and _safe_ she sometimes cannot believe she lives in Brooklyn.

Suzie smiles. "It's okay."

Rachel announces herself to the secretary to the principal, who nods, presses the intercom, announces her presence to the principal, who responds by saying, "Bring them in."

"Ms. Santana Pierce Lopez?" the principal asks, standing up when Rachel and Suzie enter the room, offering her hand to Rachel.

Rachel smiles, steps forward, grimacing inside at the reminder that Santana still sometimes uses her name from when she was married to Brittany.

"Rachel Berry," she corrects as she accepts the hand offered her.

The woman, who is middle-aged, tall, has a large, bony, angular face, with very high cheekbones, a long, narrow, hooked nose, wide, thin, humorless lips and sharp, watchful, bird-like eyes. Her name plate says she is Mrs. Philomena Sheridan. She is wearing a severe gray suit that seems to be as afraid of her frame as everything else is in this room. It takes Rachel only a second to develop a dislike for Mrs. Sheridan.

"Are you Susanna's guardian?"

"Er…"Rachel hesitates, glancing at Suzie briefly. "Yes."

"Ah, good," the principal says. "Thank you for coming, Miss Berry."

There is a pause, as the principal waits for Suzie to settle. "As you may have known from the letters we have given you, we have been trying to arrange meetings with you, about your…ward, Susanna."

Rachel wishes she would get on with it. It is late in the afternoon, she is tired, hungry and she needs to make dinner for Suzie, Santana and herself.

The woman mercifully continues. "As you can see from Susanna's grades, she has proven to be an exceptional student, showing impressive grades in math, science, history, English," Mrs. Sheridan says. "But lately, her grades have been slipping…"

This is news to Rachel and she turns to Suzie, puzzled.

"This, in and of itself, is not cause for alarm, as, since she has a few advanced classes, it may be hard for her to keep up sometimes," the woman continues in, what Rachel recognizes to be, her condescending tone. "After all, er, changes inside the home can have a significant impact on a child. Have there been changes at home that you feel may have affected Suzie's performance?"

Rachel can sense Suzie struggling not to squirm in her seat. She feels the same way. She nods a "no" at the woman.

The woman leans back, makes a steeple out of her fingers, makes a point to pause, and think, before continuing, "Hmmm..that is interesting. As I mentioned, her recent mediocre academic performance can be attributed to difficulties to adjusting to a new environment, in this case, her new classes, or changes at home, but since you have indicated otherwise, I am thus perplexed as to why Susanna would get into fights in school."

Rachel now looks at Suzie, visibly surprised. She wonders why Suzie has not told her this, as Suzie has always been an exceptional student. "Is my…" she stops, correcting herself, "Is Suzie being bullied?"

"Well, that's when it becomes interesting," Mrs. Sheridan says. "You see, while Susanna has been, on occasion, bullied, it has come to our attention that she bullies other children, too."

Rachel knits her brows, cannot believe her ears, as Suzie sinks lower in the chair, more sullen and angry as Mrs. Sheridan talks to her.

"Bullies other kids?" Rachel asks, blankly.

"Yes," Mrs. Sheridan answers eagerly. "Why, only a few hours ago, she managed to hoist a boy up our flag pole, by the seat of his…err…underwear…and a few days ago, she glued another boy's, er, rear, to his chair…."

Rachel's jaw drops. She is speechless, unable to say anything, as she looks from the principal to Suzie and back. Suzie sinks further down the chair, unable to meet her eyes.

"I understand Susanna lives in a single-parent family?" Mrs. Sheridan now asks, curious, _nosy_ actually, Rachel feels. "Because I feel this is what is wrong sometimes with the child-rearing habits of our American parents. She obviously lacks a male role model, and this is very important if she is to grow up to be a well-rounded adult individual."

The condescension now drips from Mrs. Sheridan's voice and it takes every ounce of Rachel's strength not to go all Santana on this woman.

She turns to Suzie now, "Honey, can you please wait for me outside? I'll be a minute…"

* * *

A few minutes later, in which she had a lengthy and very loud argument with the principal, their voices, she suspects, heard by Suzie, she and the girl leave Green Avenue Academy in a huff, Rachel still fuming from the fact that the principal had implied that their parenting skills were lacking and that Suzie was in need of a male role model. It is the most ridiculous thing she has ever heard and she is so angry she wants the principal fired.

She and Suzie find themselves sitting outside their apartment in Greenburg Hill Gardens. The guard, a middle-aged pleasant man, smiles at them as they take a seat by the stairs of the building.

They are silent for a while. Rachel still does not know what to say.

"Suzie…" she starts, stops and stays quiet. "Suzie…how…why…what…?"

Suzie is quiet for a moment. "Am I going to be expelled?" she asked, a slight worried tone in her voice.

Rachel smiles. "No, honey. I don't think so. And if you are, then we'll find another, better school, okay?"

"Are you mad?"

Rachel shakes her head. "No."

Suzie nods her head.

"I'm a bit disappointed though, honey," Rachel adds. "You hoisted a human _being_ up a flag pole. You glued someone's butt on their chair."

"I'm sorry," Suzie says.

Rachel is quiet.

"Will mom be mad?"

"I don't know honey," Rachel says. "But I expect she will be as disappointed as I am."

They are quiet again.

"Mee, it's not your fault," Suzie says. "It's not Mom's fault either."

Rachel patiently waits for what Suzie has to say next.

"I screwed up, I know," Suzie says, "But I swear, I had a reason. That boy I hoisted up the flag pole, he kept making fun of me…kept calling me spic and the N-word, the word Mom says I'm not supposed to use _ever_. And he used to do it all the time, when the teachers weren't looking. And he says it's because of my skin, that I look like a spic and the N-word and stuff. And he kept calling me dyke and nerd, too."

"Him calling me dyke and nerd, I can deal with, but there's nothing wrong with my skin color, is there, Mee?" Suzie asks.

Rachel looks at her, _really_ looks at her, and sees a girl, their girl, her and Santana's, with golden brown skin, and beautiful light brown almond eyes with flecks of green and blue and grey in them, and she realizes Suzie is turning into the young woman she is supposed to become: strong and mature and independent. Despite what has happened, Rachel cannot help but feel proud of Suzie. She looks at Suzie and shakes her head.

"I thought so, too," Suzie says. "And he kept bullying this girl, too. This classmate of mine. She's pretty and nice and she gives me apples sometimes. Or oranges. He called her kike. I didn't know what that meant. And then I googled it and I found out and I got so mad. Because I thought of you. So first chance I got, I grabbed him, tied him up and put him up the flag pole. And his friend…kept making fun of me, too. So I glued him to his chair."

"Honey," Rachel says patiently. "It took three hours for them to get him off the chair."

"I know," Suzie says.

"He had to go to therapy after," Rachel says.

"I know."

"He is transferring schools," Rachel points out. "And that kid you hoisted up the flag pole… I mean, honey, I don't even know how you did that!"

Suzie hangs her head, dejected.

"I mean, you even _made_ him recite the pledge of allegiance! In Spanish! While he was hanging by his underwear! "Rachel says, still incredulous. "They think you may have ruined his chances of reproducing…in fact, they think you may have scarred him for life!"

"I'm sorry about that," Suzie finally says after a silence. "I knew what I did was wrong. I know that. But I'm not sorry about what I did. I wanted to teach them a lesson. Besides, mom always says sometimes you have to fight back. And you have to fight back for people who can't stand up for themselves."

Rachel sighs. "Honey, I'm pretty sure that's not what your mother meant." She knows though that that was _exactly_ what Santana meant. She has known Santana enough to know that though the years may have mellowed her down some, there is still a bit of that mean, bitchy, war freak high school Santana in her, a trait she may have passed down to Suzie.

"Am I being grounded, Mee?" Suzie asks.

"I'm afraid so, honey," Rachel says, "I'm sorry."

"I guess I deserve that," Suzie says. "That seems fair. Will you talk to mom?"

"Yup. But don't worry, we'll figure it out." Rachel moves over and gives Suzie a hug. "You know what you did was very, very wrong, right?"

Suzie looks up at her, eyes sad and sorry. Suzie nods.

"The grades don't matter, I mean obviously we want you to study hard and all that, but as long as you're doing you're best, it's fine," Rachel continues. "We're still proud of you no matter what."

They are silent for a few moments, watching the sun set over the buildings beyond Greenburg Hill Gardens, setting the falling autumn leaves on fire.

Presently, Suzie asks, "Mee, when did you know you were gay?"

Rachel pulls back from their hug, looks at Suzie. "What?"

"I mean, how did you know you were gay?"

Rachel thinks for a moment. She is unable to remember when exactly she knew she was gay. It had always been a non-issue, something she had always been open to. Like Santana, she had not wanted to be labeled. She had always thought she fell for the _person_, not the gender. After all, she had two gay dads, her best friend is gay, she had gay friends, she had worked in Broadway. Dating women was never an issue. She had actually dated a woman or two in NYADA, after Santana, but had never had anything serious develop with any of them. Looking back now, she feels that it has always been Santana. Always.

"I don't know, honey," Rachel answers her now. "I guess, you just _know_, you know?"

Suzie nods.

"Why do you ask?" Rachel asks, carefully. "Do you think you might be…?" Rachel is unable to finish the question.

Suzie shrugs. "I don't know, Mee. I kind of like some boys. As long as they shower and keep their nails clean and keep their hair short and neat."

Rachel smiles. Santana may be right. She _is_ rubbing off on Suzie, too.

"But I think I kind of mostly like that girl I hoisted the boy for, too."

Rachel is silent. She is a bit surprised about this revelation. But only a little. She smiles encouragingly at Suzie and asks, "Are you worried about it? I mean…is this why…you're doing this? I mean, you're not hurting yourself, are you?"

Suzie shakes her head. "God, no, Mee. No, I'd never do that. I don't know though if that's the reason I'm…acting out…I just don't…_know…_"

Rachel smiles again. "Honey, you don't need to worry about that _now._ You're only _twelve_. When I was twelve, I thought I was going to be a _nun_. Then I found out I had to be Catholic to be a nun and that I had to swear off any kind of…romantic relationships with anyone…and so I had to change my mind. Then after that, I had crushes on boys. Lots of boys. Then that changed, too. As you know."

Suzie smiles. "Okay."

"Give it time, okay?" Rachel says. "You're still young. Things will still change. And even if they stay the same, there is nothing wrong with that, okay? And your mother and I will _always_ be here for you. Always."

"I know there's nothing wrong with it, Mee, I just get worried."

"About what?"

"What the world will think, and stuff," Suzie says. "I mean Abuela's mom disowned mom, didn't she? And she went through a lot before she got married to mommy…I get worried sometimes. I don't want to hurt you guys…"

"Aww, honey," Rachel says, hugging her tightly. "You could never hurt us. But if you keep hoisting kids up flagpoles, you will. Please don't do anything bad like that anymore. And stay away from people's underwear and buttocks from now on."

"Okay."

"C'mon, I'll cook dinner," Rachel says, getting up. "Your mom won't be able to make it for dinner, so it's just the two of us. "

"What's for dinner?"

"Broccoli?" Rachel says tentatively. "With raisins, nuts, maybe some mushrooms and stuff."

Suzie's eyes brighten. "Cool! Can I have some ice cream before dinner?"

"Yes," Rachel says, "But not too much or you'll ruin your appetite!"

"Okay."

* * *

"The thing is, Mee," Suzie says, between bites of raw carrot sticks, a concession she has agreed to in order to eat some ice cream, one hand holding a carrot stick, the other hand holding a pen, notebooks and textbooks spread out in front of her, "She's really popular, you know? How do I woo her?"

Rachel throws in some veggies into the frying pan and checks the rice cooking in the rice cooker. The smell of vegetables and the fragrant aroma of Jasmine rice wafts around their kitchen. She looks back at Suzie, smiles and rolls her eyes. "We don't use the word 'woo' for starters."

"Okay," Suzie says. "But how do I make her notice me?"

"Well, honey, if she's giving you apples and oranges, doesn't that mean like she's a bit into you anyway?" Rachel says.

Suzie sighs. "Yeah, but I think she just likes me as a friend, you know? I mean, I have to make my move before I go into the _friend_ zone. It's hard when you go into the friend zone."

"The friend _zone_?" Rachel laughs at how earnest Suzie is being. "Where do you get these things from? How do you even know what the friend zone _is_?"

Suzie says, "I saw it online while I was doing research."

"Ah. Of course," Rachel says.

"The thing is…" Suzie sighs, dramatically. "I can't eat, I can't sleep…"

"Sounds serious," Rachel teases her.

"Yeah." Suzie nods as Rachel looks at her. Suzie says, "How about music? How about singing to her? Like sing her a song or something."

Rachel puts the flame on low, covers the pan and comes over to Suzie, checking over her homework. Since she is the one who is more patient with homework, she has taken to helping Suzie with her assignments. Santana helps whenever she can, but it is usually Rachel and Suzie together after school. She tilts her head, points at something in Suzie's math homework, Suzie looks down, sees what Rachel means, and erases her original solution. Suzie bites her lower lip as she tries to redo the homework.

"In public?" Rachel asks, incredulously. "Won't that be too corny or cheesy or dorky?"

Suzie rolls her eyes. "Mee, this isn't _Ohio_. I seriously don't know why your school mates would bully you and mom for being good singers and for making good grades! It's really weird. I mean even 50 Cent and Ringo Starr can hook up with girls just 'cause they're singers! I mean that girl I like, she sings like an angel and everyone has a crush on her. She's so popular! That's why I think the chances of her noticing me are very low!"

Rachel shrugs. "You never know. You won't ever know til you try."

Suzie thinks about this, resting her chin on her palm while chewing the end of the pencil. Rachel looks at her and finds Suzie experiencing her first crush adorable. An idea comes to her.

"Hey, you've been talking about this girl for _hours _now, honey. What's her name? Do you have a picture of her?"

Suzie nods and whips out her cellphone, scrolls through her folders before she finds what she is looking for and shows the picture to Rachel. Rachel sees a pretty girl with a full head of wild, curly hair. She has large, brown puppy-dog eyes and a soft smile on her face. She is holding a puppy in her hands.

"Her name is Kate, and she's really smart and she has a beautiful face and her mom is Jewish and her father is Jamaican and African American and she's really awesome," Suzie says, with a look of affection and a smile on her face.

"Is this girl the reason you wanted your own puppy? The one you said had the puppy?"

"Yeah, kind of," Suzie says.

Rachel smiles. "So, what song do you want to sing? And when do you want to sing it?"

"Well, there's this Christmas program in school…I was hoping I could prepare for that," Suzie says. "But Mee, I have to give up one after school class I think. Either ballet or music or self-defense. I get so tired sometimes. Plus the homework I get from school, Mee!"

Rachel thinks about it. "Okay, I'll talk to your mom about it. But you can definitely practice in time for Christmas!"

Suzie smiles.

Rachel smiles back. She is glad that a crisis is averted. Now, if only she can find a way to tell Santana some of the developments in Suzie's life.

* * *

Later that evening, Rachel, who is half-way between sleep and waking, hears somebody open the front door, hears the familiar unmistakable footsteps that can only be Santana's, loud, even, purposeful. She squints her eyes in the gloom of the room, barely illuminated by the light from the window that faces the street of Greenburg Hill Gardens, where equidistant street lights illumine each part of the street in pools of light. Soft music from her iPod, which is connected to a set of portable speakers, play Tori Amos songs.

The footsteps get louder and then gradually fade away, and Rachel knows Santana has gone to check on Suzie down the hall when she hears a door creak open and shut.

She and Suzie had a lengthy heart-to-heart talk at dinner and after dinner about Kate and crushes and what song to sing for her. Once Suzie opened up, it seemed like a dam had burst open and she could not stop talking about this girl. They watched a bit of television first, while Rachel lent her a book from Santana's makeshift library. It is a book by Nancy Garden, called "Annie on my Mind". It is a young adult novel that Santana has kept since high school. Santana says her mother gave it to her right after she came out, and she kept it for the memory of her mother, who though she could not understand the whys and wherefores of Santana's gayness, tried to express that she accepted it and loved her anyway, by giving her a book.

Suzie had gratefully taken the book and smiled at Rachel, thanking her for it.

Presently, Rachel hears the door down the hall open and close again, and the footsteps approach their door. She hears their bedroom door creak open, a sliver of hallway light slicing through the darkness of the room. Santana creeps into the room slowly. Rachel moves, lifts her head from the pillow, sees Santana's shape in the doorway.

"Hey," she says sleepily.

"Hey, baby," Santana whispers as she proceeds to their bed.

Santana climbs into it, kicks off her shoes and encloses Rachel in her arms, burying her face between Rachel's neck and shoulders. Rachel touches the arms that enclose her, inhales the heady scent of Santana and her perfume. Santana usually smells like a garden of freshly blooming flowers in May. "Sorry I'm late. Did I wake you?" Santana asks.

"No. I'd just fallen asleep when you came in."

"Sorry," Santana whispers.

"It's okay," Rachel says. "I just have a hard time sleeping when you're not around."

"Aawww," Santana says. "Missed me? Is that why you're sleeping on my side of the bed?"

"Yeah. Have you eaten?" Rachel suddenly asks.

"Yeah. We ordered Chinese and some pizza. I missed your vegetarian stuff."

"No you didn't."

"You're right, no, I didn't," Santana admits and laughs. A silence ensues after which, Santana asks, "What is that horrid music playing?"

"What?"

"It sounds like vagina music."

"That's Tori Amos," Rachel says indignantly. "And you're one to talk. You were the one who used to sing K.D. Lang songs in Glee Club."

"Shut _up_," Santana says as Rachel giggles. "I was young. I didn't know what I was doing."

"Or singing, apparently," Rachel says.

"Hey, you listen to Indigo Girls," Santana points out, in a half-teasing accusing tone.

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Alright, alright. We've established we're as gay as tennis players. But you know who's gayer than you and me combined?"

Santana brushes her lips on Rachel's neck. "Who?"

"Puck," Rachel says. "I mean he sang you that Melissa Etheridge song that one time in high school."

She feels Santana think for a moment. "Nah. I think Finn is a bigger lesbian. He sang you that acoustic version of 'Girls Just Wanna Have Fun'."

They both laugh. It is an old joke that they have. Rachel reaches for her iPod, stops the music, scrolls through her folders, before she stops in the RnB folder and plays songs from the folder. "How was your day?"

Santana takes a deep breath, lifts her head up from the comfort of Rachel's neck to answer, "It was okay. We're working on a possibly big case…this young Ugandan woman, she's a lesbian, she's facing deportation. She came to us asking for our help. She's an illegal immigrant; she's been living here illegally for a few years now. She was seeking asylum for being gay and for the human rights abuses she's gone through but her application was denied. She doesn't want to go back to Uganda. They don't treat lesbians very nicely there. She'd already been abused and beat up and had narrowly escaped being raped and the only reason she escaped was because she crossed borders and somehow found herself here."

"That sounds awful," Rachel remarks.

"Yeah. Her partner is American, but since she's an illegal immigrant, she doesn't have legal status, so she faces deportation unless we do something about it, but you know how Home Affairs and Immigration are," Santana continues. "I think we may have a strong case, and we have a couple more young Africans with similar cases who've come to us, but we'll see. It could be a landmark public interest case for gay rights and immigration law."

"Wow, sounds interesting," Rachel comments.

"It is. Miranda has been surprisingly useful believe it or not," Santana says. "How was your day?"

"It was okay," Rachel replies. "Your mom called again. Says to tell you you have to call her back."

"Okay."

"She also wants to know if we're coming home for Thanksgiving. And if not, are we coming home for Christmas, and if we're not coming home for Thanksgiving, can she come here instead? And why don't we just give her a key to the apartment so she can just come home and we don't need to pick her up at the train station…? Which, by the way, I _still _am opposed to. Vehemently. Need I remind you of the time she walked in on us that one time…?"

"I know, I know," Santana interrupts. "But it's not like it hasn't happened before."

"Your mom regularly walks in on you when you're making out with your girlfriend?"

Santana clears her throat. Rachel secretly grins. She can almost feel Santana blush, feel her squirm. "Well, she walked in on me and Brittany one time in high school, too."

Rachel laughs. "So, anyway, what's the plan?"

"Ugh. Thanksgiving is barely a month away. And Christmas is still a couple of months away."

"Well, you know how it is. Empty nest and everything."

"Which is the same thing with your parents, isn't it?" Santana points out. "But you don't hear them bothering us. Although I think that has more to do with the fact that they don't like me. Like I've taken their only child away from them or something."

"Honey, how many times do I have to tell you? You _know_ that's not true," Rachel says.

"Okay. Anyway, let me think about Thanksgiving, but I think we may have to do it here. Christmas we may have to go home for, as Suzie's grandparents on both sides always want to see her Christmas break," Santana says, thoughtfully.

"Speaking of Suzie…" Rachel carefully says, trying to find the words to explain Suzie's predicament. "I was at the school earlier today."

"Yeah? How did it go?" Santana asks.

"Well, you wouldn't believe it, but…"

And for the next few minutes, Rachel recounts the meeting with Mrs. Sheridan, Suzie's grades, the tale of Suzie being bullied at school, her crush, and her hoisting a boy up the flag pole and gluing a boy's ass on a chair, punctuated by Santana's incredulous remarks: "They did _what_…? To _her_? She did _what?..._With _what?_...To _what?_"

When Rachel finishes recounting Suzie's story, Santana is silent for a few moments before she grins and says, "That's my girl!" Rachel shakes her head, unbelieving. Of _course_ Santana's first reaction would be this.

They discuss briefly the inevitability of having to ground Suzie as well as possibly dealing with the school administration, upset parents, and a school that does not seem to approve of same-sex parenting. They are both relieved that since the boys _have_ been bullying Suzie, and Suzie had just retaliated, and because Suzie is a straight-A student, the school is not going to expel her. Rachel briefly tells her what she and Suzie talked about as well and how she may have to give up one of her after-school activities to free up her schedule for her studies. Rachel also raises the possibility of looking at puppies for them as well. Santana grudgingly agrees to it.

"Mrs. Sheridan is a bitch though," Rachel suddenly blurts out, surprised she uses a word she normally does not use. Rachel avoids cussing whenever she can, but she must now face the fact that having been with Santana this long would also impact on her word choices.

"She is though, isn't she?" Santana says, sighing. "And telling you Suzie needs a male role model! What the hell is up with that?! Does she live under a rock or something?"

"Yeah, I didn't understand that either. I mean, seriously, studies show it doesn't really make a difference whether a child has same sex parents or not," Rachel points out, taking a deep breath. She suddenly feels exhausted. The world is full of bigoted, homophobic people like Mrs. Sheridan. And she will probably meet more of them. The only reason she seems to be handling it now is because Santana, her Santana is right by her side and refusing to let the world get them down. In their most resolute moments, Rachel feels like she and Santana and Suzie are beating its ass.

Santana can probably sense her dejection, because Santana shifts, tries to pull at her shoulder, so that Rachel rolls over and is facing Santana. Santana kisses Rachel's forehead, cheeks, nose and finally kisses her lips, softly. "Hey, you okay?"

Rachel nods. Santana does not speak now, just puts her arm around Rachel's back possessively, gathers Rachel up and holds her like this. She can feel Santana trying to comfort her, trying to make her feel better, knows that Rachel is upset. In these moments, she is reminded again why she loves Santana: for those moments when even when she does not speak, she can convey so much emotion and warmth.

Santana holds her now, in a reassuring way. And at the end of it, Santana pulls back from her hug, grins and says, "Aww, Suzie's all grown up now! Our baby's growing up..." Rachel laughs.

"By the way," Rachel says, remembering something. "I'm starting a Glee Club at school."

In the darkness, she can already imagine Santana rolling her eyes and smiling. "Why am I not surprised?"

Rachel feels defensive. "Hey, I think it would be good for them, actually. I mean, it will give them a bit of focus and everything."

When Santana does not say anything, Rachel continues, "Well, you say education will always be bound by the intellectual and emotional limitations of our time…but I think music, literature, art, transcends all that… "

She hears Santana snort. "Honey, shut up. You're not going to let that go are you?"

Rachel laughs. "Sorry."

"I think it's a great idea," Santana says after some thought. "Although frankly I'm quite surprised you'll be able to start one. Aren't public schools always struggling with arts funding and all that? I mean it's not really particularly popular at the moment, in this economy."

"I know, but I could try," Rachel says softly.

"Okay…Just…make sure you don't bite off more than you can chew, okay?"

"Okay," Rachel says, feeling elated and happy that she got Santana's vote of confidence.

"And, for the love of god, don't do mash-ups," Santana says. "I hated those mash-ups we had to do! They were awful."

"Hey, I was the one who did the arrangements for those!" Rachel says. "I also did the costumes and choreographing and story boarding and everything else!"

Santana laughs. "They were still awful, honey. I mean, 'Start me up' and 'Living on a Prayer'? 'Free Your Mind' and 'Stop in the Name of Love'? 'I Feel Pretty' and 'Unpretty'? Simply atrocious! The list goes on and on!"

"Yeah, but you looked hot in leather though," Rachel says, thoughtfully. "And Shelby did some cool mash-ups. I mean you guys did that killer Adele number."

Santana smiles. "True that. And Shelby was a great music teacher. She _made_ us practice, like, the same songs and stuff. Over and over and over again. Half of the time Mr. Schuester doesn't seem to know what he's doing…all he seems to be ever good for was writing the theme of the week on the board, you know? Sometimes, it feels like Mr. Schuester kind of just puts song titles or themes in a hat and picks one up and that's what we're going to sing. 'Lady Gaga', yeah, let's roll with that! Choir practice be damned!"

They both laugh, remembering Mr. Schuester's questionable teaching methods.

"And do you remember how inappropriate some of those songs were?" Santana asks. "I mean, yeah, it seemed cool then…but I'd freak out if I heard Suzie sing those songs now! I'd probably have her Glee Club adviser fired!

"I know, right?" Rachel agrees. "I mean I'm quite surprised Mr. Schuester managed to be a teacher this long without getting fired!"

"That's what I was thinking!" Santana says.

"Hold on." Santana pulls back so she is looking at Rachel. "Were you _checking_ me out in high school?"

Rachel rolls her eyes. "It was kind of hard _not_ to. With your short skirts and stuff."

"So gay!" Santana says, laughing.

"Anyway," Rachel says, "Don't worry. I won't do mash-ups unless necessary. And I will certainly pick appropriate song titles for them."

"I know you will honey," Santana says. "I'm pretty sure you will do a better job than Mr. Schue."

Santana remembers the broken laptop Rachel brought home that one time and tells her it is as good as new. "Just…try not to spill anything on it, okay?"

Santana starts to yawn. Rachel does the same. Santana moves in closer again, holds Rachel, kisses her on the cheek, then on the lips.

Suddenly, the first strains of a song play in Rachel's iPod. Rachel smiles, whispers sleepily, "I've missed you."

"Me, too," Santana murmurs sleepily. "This is the best part of my day…coming home to you."

"This is the best part of my day, too." Rachel smiles sleepily. "You coming home to me."

Santana kisses Rachel on the forehead, then on the lips. As Mariah Carey's voice comes on the speakers, Santana starts singing along with Mariah,

"_We were as one babe  
For a moment in time  
And it seemed everlasting  
That you would always be mine  
Now you want to be free  
So I'm letting you fly  
Cause I know in my heart babe__  
Our love will never die  
Noooohoh!"  
_

Rachel smiles as Santana continues to sing. They had once joked about this song. Santana once said she wanted to dedicate the song to her, because it is a really nice song, but Rachel points out that it is kind of a break up song and it crushes Santana. It is a secret joke that they have with each other, but barring that line in the song that says the lover wants to be free, the whole song is still nice and sweet and Santana sings it now to Rachel.

_"You'll always be a part of me  
I'm a part of you indefinitely  
Boy don't you know you can't escape me  
Ooh darling cause you'll always be my baby  
And we'll linger on__  
Time can't erase a feeling this strong  
No way you're never gonna shake me  
Ooh darling cause you'll always be my baby"…_

They both fall asleep clinging to each other as Mariah Carey sings the song in the background, her powerful, distinctive voice filling the darkness with melody and promise…

* * *

_**Author's end notes:**_

_**Thanks for reading! Again, reviews welcome and will be much appreciated. :-)**_

_**Some comments – **_

_**parker88 and kutee – thanks for your kind comments. They've been very positive and encouraging, just what this fan fic writer needed! :) Yes, you're right about "Dangerous Minds", although the other scenes are not from "Sister Act 2" (Ahmal character like Kareem character) and "Stand and Deliver". I do like these films though and have been inspired by them, only because obviously Whoopi Goldberg and Edward James Olmos are better teachers than Mr. Schuester. Kareem is loosely based on an infamous South African politician who likes to say "That's racist!" about everything.:) My beta and I kind of just started thinking about our own high school experience as well and how it was really tough being a teacher just 'cause teenagers can really just be horrid little creatures! :) And of course high school movies usually get that right! :)**_

_**Cammiel and aviran – thank you as well for your reviews! :)**_

_**Special thanks to DragonsWillFly who stays up late answering queries, editing, posting quotes, replying to rants, providing ideas, ad infinitum. Thank you very much! Words cannot express…!**_

_**Also, you know the drill, log on to youtube dot com for the featured song of this chapter (or episode, as my beta and I like to call it): "Always be my Baby" by Mariah Carey.**_


	7. Prose and Song

_**Author's note: Dear readers! Since you've been so good to me and this 'verse and story, I've decided to upload the next chapter. Hope you enjoy it! Happy reading!**_

* * *

Rachel clutches her books and notebooks and book bag as she proceeds to her classroom. She can already here noise and song and beats. When she enters the room, she can already see Baz, McG, Kareem and Jamal gathered in a circle, sitting or standing up. Baz is rapping and singing to someone beat boxing on one of the chairs,

"_I'm sorry Ms. Jackson (oooh)_

_I am for real_

_Never meant to make your daughter cry_

_I apologize a trillion times…"_

As is usual, Rachel leans by the doorway, watching Baz rap and sing as the other boys join in during the chorus. The other kids are bobbing their heads up and down, or tapping their feet or hands to the same beat as the beat box. The girls are half-dancing in their chairs, waving their arms in the air, their bodies swaying to the beat.

When Baz spies Rachel leaning by the door, he stops and greets her. "Hiya, Miz B! What's happenin'?!"

Rachel grins, lifts a hand in greeting, says, "Hey Hayadooin", and steps in, closing the door behind her.

The other students take their places on their chairs. The noise fades to a buzz as each one waits for Rachel to speak.

"Morning," she greets everyone.

Everyone greets her back.

"Okay, don't forget, auditions this afternoon, auditorium," Rachel reminds everyone. Santana had teased her about the auditions. "I'm disappointed you don't have those stupid purple pianos to recruit new members for your club…or, you know, stage some kind of musical production outside to the tune of 'Empire State of Mind'," Santana had said. Rachel had retorted that she was not Mr. Schuester, of course she would hold proper auditions, as her pink flyers with the gold stars on it, which she shows Santana, would signify. Santana had rolled her eyes and laughed then, shaking her head at Rachel, because, of course, she would still use gold stars like she used to do in school. Some things never change.

Everyone now groans.

Then Rachel takes out a small sheaf of paper, with a couple of pieces of cardboard taken from PizzaHut pizza boxes, a couple of tissues with the McDonald's logo, and some books from her bag. The students had written their suggested books on the pieces of paper. She shows the sheaf to the class, shakes her head as if to say, "What am I going to do with you lot?"

Everyone snickers, as Rachel pulls out papers from the sheaf.

"I'd like to thank everyone for taking the time to come up with the suggested reading lists," she starts.

"You're welcome, Miz B!" Baz cries out from the back.

Rachel smiles at him. She comes around her table and leans over it, clutching the papers and resting her hands by the edges of the table. "You've come up with…interesting choices, I see."

"Like, Baz," and here Rachel takes a deep breath, "I don't know about reading Judy Blume's 'Are You There God, It's Me Margaret'…"

"Well, why not, Miz B?!" Baz asks, incredulously.

Everyone starts to snicker.

"Hey, Baz! There's a part two to that book," someone from the back says.

"There's a part two?" Baz asks, excited, in spite of himself.

"Yeah, part two is, 'Are You There Margaret? It's Me, God, Shut Up!'"

Everyone laughs.

"Hey, I'm just goofin' on ya," the voice says.

"Not for nuttin', Baz, but you the dumbest Negro on the face of the earth," one of the kids say, to the laughter of everyone else.

"Fuck you all!" Baz says angrily, slouching down on his chair with a scowl on his face.

"Language, Baz," Rachel says.

"Sorry, Miz B," Baz says.

"That's fine," Rachel says. "I understand why you would choose this, it's easy to read, easy to follow, no big words, whatever…but this is kind of…fifth, sixth grade level reading, Baz."

"Yeah, you should stick to some fourth grade level book, like 'Horton Hears A Who' or 'Green Eggs and Ham'!" somebody pipes up from the back.

"That's enough, Anderson," Rachel says. "Although, Baz, we can't have those as well, okay? Or Nancy Drew and Sweet Valley High as you suggested. I'm sorry. You just have to get another book."

Everyone laughs again.

"Okay, that's enough out of all of you," Rachel says. She pulls out a Snickers chocolate bar and says, "But you get a Snickers for trying, okay?" before tossing the chocolate bar to Baz. Baz's face lights up and Rachel smiles back at him. Santana has commented that she feels Rachel might sometimes be taking this teaching high school thing too far, but Rachel wants to see the school year through, really genuinely wants these kids to finish this year in her class at least. The class claps for him and teases him.

"As for the rest of you…Kenyatta, we _can't_ have '50 Shades of Grey' for class," Rachel continues. "I cannot stress enough how we just _cannot_ have that book in class."

"Why not?" Maya asks, knitting her brows.

Rachel tilts her head, looks her in the eye and says, "You _know_ why, Maya."

"What's '50 Shades of Grey'?" Baz asks, in between bites and chews of the chocolate bar.

"You don't wanna know," Kenyatta says. "And besides, it's way above your reading level."

"Oh, snap!" one of the kids yell.

"Miz B, can we have role plays and simulation on specific scenes from '50 Shades of Grey'?!" somebody asks from the back. "With props! Costumes! And safe words!"

"Yeah!" the other students agree excitedly.

"I totally look good in leather!"

Rachel presses her fingers to her forehead, feeling a headache coming on. "No," she quickly says, almost shouts, feeling her face grow hot from the comments. "This book is not…appropriate."

She sees one of the kids lean over to Baz and whisper something. Baz's expression changes and he says, "Eeeww, Miz B, no way am I gonna read about some skank ho and her boyfriend! I skeeve that!"

"Alright, enough," Rachel says. "Don't worry, Baz, we aren't reading that book…and that's final…"

Kenyatta and Maya raise their hands in frustration. Kenyatta folds her arms in front of her and slumps down her chair.

"We are not reading 'Twilight' as well," Rachel says and before some of them can protest, she has a ready excuse, "We don't have enough books in the library for all of you."

"And to whoever suggested the comic book 'V for Vendetta', no, we can't have that as well, sorry," Rachel continues.

Somebody from the back groans, disappointed.

"What's the 'V' in 'V for Vendetta' stand for?" somebody asks from the back.

Rachel says, "It's ven -"

But Baz beats her to it and shouts, proudly, confidently, "Vagina?"

Rachel blushes as everyone erupts in laughter. Baz looks at all of them in confusion.

"Negro shut up!" somebody says.

"No, Baz, it's not," Rachel says, trying to be heard above the noise. "It's Vendetta."

"What's vendetta?" Baz asks.

"Nobody cares, Baz. Shut up," somebody says.

"I'll shut _you_ up," Baz threatens.

"Alright, that's enough," Rachel says, raising her voice slightly to be heard. She waits for the noise to die down and says, "Do you guys want your 'A's or not?"

Everyone quiets down after that.

"To continue, we can't read Nabokov's 'Lolita' as well, I'm sorry. Unless you want Principal Abrams and the whole army of the New York Board of Education down here," Rachel says. "So whoever suggested that, I'm really sorry. For obvious reasons, we cannot have 'Satanic Verses' as well. I think the others, J.D. Salinger's 'Catcher in the Rye', Philip Pullman's 'Golden Compass' Alice Walker's 'The Color Purple', and Suzanne Collins' 'Hunger Games' are fine. So shall we start with J.D. Salinger's 'Catcher in the Rye'? I have chapter one here, everyone can just get one and pass, and we'll start as soon as you're ready. Tomorrow though I expect everyone to have read chapter one already. Baz, can you start reading the first paragraph? No making fun of Baz, please."

"Thanks Miz B," Baz says.

"You're welcome," Rachel says. "Shall we start?"

* * *

It is the middle of the day and Rachel is in the auditorium holding auditions. She is exhausted from the day's classes, but she is excited about the auditions. She has posted the flyers around the school and while some have been taken down or doodled on, there are students, most of them from her class, who have signed up. She has asked them to bring their own CDs or own musical accompaniment, as there is no piano to be had for the auditions (or for future practice sessions, really). As always, being a Taft High faculty involves being able to be flexible in these matters. She is in front of the stage, on one of the chairs, a long table pulled up in front of her, where she has carefully laid out a clip board, differently colored pens (red, blue, black), and a printed out ExCel spreadsheet with the names of the students auditioning for this afternoon. Santana had teased her about the ExCel spreadsheet that she had made, with the names of the students on it, and four columns beside it, that say, "Soprano", "Alto", "Tenor" and "Bass". Santana always teases her about being so anal and obsessed about everything, including a small audition for Glee Club. "I definitely don't remember seeing Mr. Schue do something like that in high school!" Santana had commented when she had spied what Rachel was doing on her laptop at home. They had actually had a brief discussion about how to classify the voices.

"What do you think, honey, should I classify the girls as soprano, mezzo-soprano, and contralto? And for boys, tenor, baritone, and bass?" Rachel had asked her.

Santana had shrugged, looking over her shoulder to scan her ExCel spreadsheet. "I don't know, baby. I thought there were only four voices? Soprano, alto, tenor and bass?"

"Yes, but this is the more precise one," Rachel had said.

"I don't remember us being classified like this in high school," Santana had said thoughtfully.

"That's because Mr. Schue is _not_ a music major and cannot teach anything, much less music, to save his life," Rachel had replied, grinning.

"I think we've already established that, baby," Santana had said, chuckling. "But where do you usually use these ones for?"

Rachel had shrugged. "I guess opera? Classical singing? I think this is descriptive of vocal timbre and vocal facility than simple vocal range though…"

"Well, you're not doing opera are you?" Santana had pointed out. "I mean, it's a _choir_, honey. It's a choir for kids. Remember me telling you you have to be careful about biting off more than you can chew? This is probably one of those times when you might be doing that."

Rachel had looked at her thoughtfully and then had sighed. "You may be right. I actually worry that it will confuse them more."

"There you go," Santana had said.

"I think I'll just go with the simpler categories, just the soprano, alto, tenor and bass," Rachel had decided.

"Good, that should be easier," Santana had replied. "We hope."

* * *

She is happy now with her Excel spreadsheet. So far, so good. She has spent a couple of her breaks or so trying to convince Principal Abrams to allow her to start a Glee Club and to let the club join the choir competition.

"While I'd love to have a Glee Club here, Ms. Berry, the fact of the matter is we just don't have the money for a Glee Club. They keep cutting our funding for the Arts. In fact, I don't think we have any now," Principal Abrams had said, "I can barely get funding for new windows as it is!"

Their conversation had been long and intermittent, spread out over a few days, that Rachel had to keep moving the audition dates, but her annoying persistence and determination, a trait that has gotten her through high school, NYADA and Broadway, a trait that Santana has described as something akin to Chinese water torture, paid off when finally, on the nth day, in the principal's office, in the middle of an argument that involved Rachel quoting T.S. Eliot and the power of transcending life through music, and what-not, Principal Abrams had leaned back on his chair, taken off his glasses, rubbed his eyes, thrown his hands in the air in frustration and surrender and had given in.

"Fine, Ms. Berry, you can have your Glee Club," Principal Abrams had said, to Rachel's delight. "But I can't spare you any funding for it," he had warned her. "So you would have to look for funding yourself, or raise the funds yourself."

Rachel had beamed in glee and nodded her head vigorously.

"And you need to have a co-director, too," Principal Abrams had said, "Precautions and stuff, for in case there are problems…provide you with checks and balances and all that."

"Okay," Rachel says. "Can I request for a Glee Club room as well?"

Principal Abrams raises his eyebrows quizzically.

"It is important that we have a practice room for our sessions," Rachel begins, trying to think of a suitable quote that would convince the principal of the importance of having their own Glee Club room, like New Directions did in Lima. "I mean…"

"Fine, fine," Principal Abrams says, interrupting her, slightly annoyed. The look on his face says it all: Rachel is beginning to irritate him. He leans over and rummages through his messy desk, where stacks of paper try to compete with each other, seem to be trying to get away from him. On either side of the desk, there is a rack for papers, one labeled "In" and another labeled "Out". The "In" rack has more papers than the "Out" rack. To the side of it, a fancy pen holder, then framed photographs of his wife and two children stand guard over the papers. On the walls are hastily nailed framed certificates, diplomas, plaques and a couple of photos. The fluorescent light above gleams on his balding pate of a head, where a few stray hairs grown from the side have been brushed over to the top to give the illusion that he still has hair. What it succeeds in doing is making him look ridiculous. Principal Abrams is small and wears glasses and has a wide, flat face, like someone has sat on his face or pulled at his face, so it looks like it has been stretched out at the edges. He has a large forehead, flat nose and eyes that seem to be set too wide apart. He has a permanent frown on his face, and his brows are perpetually meeting each other in annoyance. His features, and the fact that he always has his arms akimbo, give Rachel the impression that he is a bulldog. It is a fitting description, as though she hates his red tape and bureaucratic ways of doing things and his blasted memos, he does watch over the kids and teachers like a ferocious, protective bulldog. He finds what he is looking for, a medium-sized hard cover notebook and he goes over it, finds what he is looking for, jots down something on a piece of paper and gives it to Rachel. He says it is the only vacant room in the school that they can use for their practices.

"Thank you Principal Abrams," Rachel says, smiling gratefully. "You won't regret it."

"I already am," Principal Abrams. "Now go away before I change my mind."

When she makes to reach for the door, Principal Abrams says, "Oh, by the way, I've heard good things about your class. Good job! Keep it up!"

Rachel nods her head, smiles and leaves the office, a big grin on his face.

* * *

Presently, Gloria enters the auditorium, a frown on her face. Rachel had convinced Gloria to be the co-director of the Glee Club. Rachel had already known it had to be Gloria, and nobody else, although Mr. Smith had gallantly offered to be co-director, had approached her lunch time to tender his services.

"I'd like to be co-director with you, Ms. Berry, I'm not afraid to expose myself," Mr. Smith had said.

Rachel had grimaced at the crude innuendo and said, "Do you ever stop and think first before you open your mouth?"

"Never," Mr. Smith had said. "I just…whip it out there."

"Well, thanks for the offer, Mr. Smith, but as you are a walking lawsuit waiting to happen and my partner happens to be a lawyer, I'd have to say no, thank you," Rachel says. "But thanks!"

Gloria, in turn, had come up with a number of excuses during their cigarette break at the back of the building, so as to get out of being co-adviser of the Glee Club, "I have too much work as it is!" "I don't have time!" "I need to be home in time to cook dinner and…everything…" "My doctor says I can't be too stressed!" "I have a heart condition!"

Rachel had patiently refuted each reason with an argument as follows: "Yes, you do, I checked your schedule." "Your husband cooks, you told me this. In fact, through your many too-much-information accounts of domestic bliss, you have mentioned forcing your husband to master household chores or else you will withhold sex from him." "No, you don't have a heart condition. I asked." "Studies show we need a little stress in our lives to function properly."

Gloria had sighed, dropped her head in capitulation and said, "Fine, fine. Be glad I like you and you're my friend! Else I would've said no!"

Rachel grinned. This is what Santana sometimes says to her, except she says "partner" or "girlfriend" or some such term instead of "friend" and instead of "like", Santana says "love", sometimes "adore". When Rachel had succeeded in making Santana say yes to a puppy for Suzie, and Santana had said a familiar thing, complaining that their common friends, starting from Quinn on down, now gleefully describe Santana as whipped for her "hot little Jew", Rachel had said, "Well, I'm kind of like that small bookstore, 'Chapters' down the street. I'm small, I'm quaint, I'm tenacious, I'm a bit high maintenance and I dare you not to love me." Santana had laughed then and hugged her.

* * *

Her phone now buzzes and she sees that it is Santana, texting her. She checks the message as Gloria plops down beside her. "Hey babe. Can't make it home for dinner, working late today. Pick up Suzie for me please? Miss you. Love you," Santana's message reads.

Rachel smiles at the message, types in a hasty reply and sends it.

Gloria, who is sitting beside her, says, "Alright, let's get this party started. I still have work to do…And I still think this is a bad idea…"

Rachel just grins, nods and motions for that dorky white kid with the glasses, slim fit jeans and Chuck Taylors to call in first student to audition. The kid, whose name is Dubs, nods back, goes to the entrance near the stage and calls in the first student.

"Hi,"Rachel says with a winning smile. "What's your name?"

"T-t-t-t-t-tom," the boy stutters nervously, shifting from one foot to the next, as he wrings his hand in front of him.

"Okay, Tom," Rachel says. "What are you singing today for us?"

" 'A Th-th-th-th-th-th-th," the boy starts, stops and attempts to start again. "A th-th-th-th-th-thou-s-s-s-s-sand M-m-m-m-m-miles….by V-v-v-v-v-vanesa M-m-m-m-m-miles…"

The boy nervously nods at Dubs, who is standing by the CD player. Dubs nods back, and plays the CD.

The first strains of Vanessa Miles' 'A Thousand Miles' plays through the auditorium. The boy starts to sing,

"_M-M-M-M-M-Making My W-W-W-W-Way D-D-D-D-Downtown…"_

Gloria slumps back, folds her arms in front of her and mutters, "This is going to be a long, looooong, long day…"

Rachel glances at her, smiles apologetically. She could not agree more.

* * *

An hour later, in which they have gone through about twenty or thirty auditions, Rachel leans back on her chair, even more exhausted. She rubs her temple with her fingers, feels a pounding just behind her forehead. She is nursing a headache from the audition. She has not realized how tiring this can all be.

There have been some students that were so bad that she had not let them finish even the first stanza of their song. There were students who had sang flatly, had sang too high, had sung in such an off-key way, she could swear it hurt her ears to hear them. At one point, she had told a student, "Just…stop…please stop…No more!"

Santana had once described a singer they had gone to watch live as someone who sounds like he is singing like a cat in heat mating with a hyena. She had not known what that meant, until she heard some of the students. In fact, animal sounds would probably more accurately describe some of the atrocious singing she has heard today. She looks down at her notes, and that is exactly what she has angrily scribbled on the paper. There had been one that sounded like an elephant screaming, another that sounded like a hoarse horse neighing, pubescent voice cracking and getting caught in some of the notes, one that sounded like a bull frog or a fog horn. There was one that did not sing at all, so much as recited the lyrics of the song, closing his eyes like his life depended on it, another who sounded exactly like Sugar Motta, one of Santana's co-singers in what used to be McKinley High's rival Glee Club senior year, The Trouble Tones. There were those who were so nervous they froze, or ran out, or broke down in front of her or just opened and closed their mouths repeatedly, like fish, no words or melody coming out. There was one who had actually fainted, falling down so dramatically and operatically slowly that Rachel had thought it was part of the audition, until a few minutes passed and they realized the girl was not moving. Dubs had come forward and tried to shake the girl awake, to no avail. He had suggested throwing water at her, to which Rachel had glared at him until he looked down at his feet. Finally, Gloria had produced smelling salts for her and she woke up in no time.

The ones who eventually made it were Abdul, an Arab American who had surprised her by singing Eric Clapton's "My Father's Eyes", in a nice bass voice that was slightly accented, Maya and Hannah, who, at their insistence, had sung their audition together, their rendition of Mariah Carey and Whitney Houston's "When You Believe" and Kenyatta singing Beyonce's "If I Were a Boy". There had also been one of Baz's jam session/sing-off friends, McG, who had sung the Marvin Gaye Motown hit, "How Sweet It Is To be Loved By You" and Jamal, a light-skinned, quiet young man who sang Big Mountain's version of "Baby I Love Your Way". There were three kids who were not in her class, two of them sophomores, Amy Lee and Isabelle Cruz, who were both quiet and insisted, like Maya and Hannah, that they sing their audition song together. They both looked Asian, although Isabelle also looked Latina as well. They had held each other's hands as they sang Stevie Wonder's "Overjoyed" in the style of Esperanza Spalding. It was a beautiful rendition, their voices blending into each other, Amy's soprano coming together with Isabelle's alto voice delightfully. It was a nice song and Rachel had found herself clapping, along with Gloria and Dubs as they finished the song. They had both quietly bowed as she told them they will post the results and they should just wait for further announcements. Another student, Ruth Goldman, a sophomore as well, had auditioned with "Don't Know Why" by Norah Jones. Her voice had been nice, although that was pretty much it. She had not left any other impression for Rachel, but she had potential and so Rachel included her as well.

What surprised her though were the three students in her class who were into hip hop and R and B. When Baz is called, he steps onto the stage, like he owns it, and says, "Hiya, Miz B! What's up? Hey, Mrs. G! What's happenin'?!"

Rachel and Gloria both nod and smile in acknowledgment, as Rachel says, "Hey, so what do you have for us today, Baz?"

Baz squirms a little, feels awkward, then says, "Um…I be singing Brian McKnight's 'Still' for you today, Miz B."

Rachel, half-expecting some song with a hip-hop beat and rapping, some talk of skanks, hos, scrubs and chickenheads, sits back as Baz nods to Dubs, who plays the CD for him. His voice starts out low and full, as he sings the song, eyes closed and feeling the beat. His voice carries through the auditorium, strong and powerful as he proceeds to the chorus:

"_I still think about you  
I still dream about you  
I still want you  
And need you by my side  
I'm still mad about you  
All I ever wanted was you  
You're still the one_

_You're still the one"_

Rachel smiles when he is finished with the song and Baz nods his head, embarrassed and feeling awkward.

"Thank you, Baz," Rachel says. "That was wonderful. We'll post the results as soon as we finish up here, okay? You have a good day now."

"I be waiting," Baz says, strutting through the stage and out the entrance confidently.

Kareem, who, predictably, is wearing something African again, this time an African print t-shirt, steps up to the microphone and waits for his cue.

"Hi, Kareem," Rachel sighs, expecting some rant over something or other again. "I imagine you will be singing some African song for us today?"

Kareem clears his throat and says, softly, almost mumbling, "Umm..I'm actually singing a song from Hall and Oates, 'Everytime You Go Away'."

This surprises Rachel and she rests her jaw on the palms of her hands, leans forward and waits for Kareem to sing as Dubs hits play.

"_Baby, if we can't solve any problems  
Why do we lose so many tears?  
Oh, so you go again  
When the leading man appears  
Always the same theme  
But can't you see we've got everything going on and_

_Everytime you go away_  
_You take a piece of me with you…_"

Rachel finds it strange, for some reason, that Kareem would choose this song by white artists, as opposed to African or African American artists, which obviously there is an abundance of. But Kareem sings the song with a lot of soul, makes it funky and soulful without it being too saccharine.

When he finishes the song, equally as embarrassed as Baz, Rachel asks him a question before she lets him go. "Why did you choose this song?"

Kareem looks down, shrugs, then says, "I like the song."

"I'd have imagined you would have chosen some song by an African American artist instead or something," Rachel comments, still puzzled.

Kareem shrugs. "Music knows no skin color, Miz B. It don't matter whether this was sung by an African American or what. It's a nice song."

Kareem smiles at her, obviously dying to leave the place, uncomfortable and self-conscious. It is a side of Kareem that Rachel has not seen before. She mercifully lets him go, still perplexed.

"Well," Gloria says. "Your students are full of surprises today!"

Rachel smiles.

The one that gives her the most surprise though is popular jock Anferny Parnell, who quietly steps forward on to the stage like he is in the middle of a football game, while Rachel and Gloria had not been looking, hunched over their notes and Rachel's spreadsheet as they try to decide on the twelve members of the Glee Club.

"Hello, Anferny," Rachel says by way of greeting. "Are you auditioning for us today as well?"

Anferny nods. Anferny rarely spoke, and when he did, he always made every word count. Rachel is curious about him and wonders why he is joining. She does not have to wait long as Anferny looks at Dubs and nods at him.

To her eternal surprise, the player plays the familiar strains of "Nessun Dorma" from Puccini's Turandot. When it is time for Anferny to sing, he opens his mouth and Rachel's jaw promptly drops,

"_Nessun dorma! Nessun dorma!  
Tu pure, o, Principessa,  
nella tua fredda stanza,  
guardi le stelle  
che tremano d'amore  
e di speranza.  
_

Gloria and Dubs had mirrored Rachel's reaction. In fact, Gloria and Rachel look at each other as if to ask, "Am I really hearing this?" As Anferny continues with the song, they notice how he has closed his eyes now, as he sings with all his heart, voice going over the notes confidently,

"_Ma il mio mistero è chiuso in me,  
il nome mio nessun saprà!  
No, no, sulla tua bocca lo dirò  
quando la luce splenderà!  
Ed il mio bacio scioglierà il silenzio  
che ti fa mia!_

She suddenly remembers the first time she discovered music: it was when she heard Puccini, in the comfort of her childhood home in Lima, Ohio, when her two dads, Hiram and LeRoy, played Turandot and Rachel had listened, transfixed, to the music, as she watched sunlight streaming through the windows of their living room, her parents swaying to the music, eyes closed, just like what Anferny is doing now.

_(Il nome suo nessun saprà!...  
e noi dovrem, ahime, morir!)  
Dilegua, o notte!  
Tramontate, stelle!  
Tramontate, stelle!  
All'alba vincerò!"_

Rachel does not know but when she looks at Anferny, the magnificent strains of Puccini coming from someone who barely spoke a word in class, dark skin glistening in the spotlight, his massive, muscular body swaying slightly to the music, she feels moved, feels her soul lifted from the semi-darkness of the gloomy, cold auditorium, feels it soar above this ordinary, mundane existence, she feels overcome, elated, remembers why she loves music in the first place, why she sings, why she is teaching music now, why she had endured as much as she has endured, makes her remember why she is doing this in the first place: for those times when she rediscovers the beauty of a song unexpectedly sung in the most unexpected of places.

When he finishes the song, his face is as impassive as it always is. He only nods at Rachel and Gloria, face expressionless as Rachel informs him of the next step.

When he exits the stage, Rachel feels an exultation, a happiness at what has happened, feels the exhaustion lift from her shoulders. She smiles at him as he leaves.

She feels like she has found something unexpected in Taft High...

* * *

_**Author's end notes:**_

_**Dear readers, thanks for reading, your kind, thoughtful reviews are always welcome and are much anticipated. :)**_

_**To kutee – Suzie as Santana 2.0 – she is though, isn't she? She's Santana's child, of course she would be more proactive! :)**_

_**As for Mr. Schue and the club never being prepared until the last minute – yes, that was one of my beefs with Glee! Again, thank you for your review.**_

_**To parker88 – yes, the big reveal is past! :) Again, you have to stick around to find out what happens. Re: Mrs. Sheridan and her description – thank you for your kind words. It is much appreciated. I wanted characters that were as real as the ones in canon, you see, hence the description. Glad you like it! :) Re: style of writing – thanks! I enjoy writing, so I'm glad you like it! Thank you. :)**_

_**To lesmismewicked – yes, it is important that Suzie's inner Santana be unleashed. :) Thanks for your review!**_

_**And to those who want to know, yes, my favorite fan fic is a Glee Zombie apocalypse story called "Say Goodbye to this Heart of Mine" from Random Flores. I've been paying little tributes to the fan fic that changed it all for me. :-)**_

_**If this chapter, especially the last part, feels different, please blame Spike Lee, of whom I am a fan of. He'd recently commented about class, race, stereotypes, Brooklyn and African American teenagers. I also would like to acknowledge writer Esmeralda Santiago and her book, "When I was Puerto Rican" which gave a very good insight into Brooklyn from an immigrant's perspective.**_

_**To DragonsWillFly - many thanks for going over this. Your constant support and encouragement always inspires me. **_**:) **

_**Chapter 8 will come soon. Thanks for your patience! :)**_

_**Featured music for this chapter:**_

_**"Ms. Jackson" by OutKast, **__**"Still" by Brian McKnight, **__**"Everytime You Go Away" by Hall and Oates, **__**"Nessun Dorma" from Puccini's Turandot**_

_**(And yes, if you feel like checking out the other songs the students used for their audition, please feel free to do so. :) )**_


	8. Rachel Berry, Glee Club Adviser

_**Author's note: Friends, dear readers, fellow Glee fans! Chapter 8 is up! Or as I like to call it, the "Rachel, Warrior Glee Club Adviser" chapter. **_**:)**_** Many thanks for your patience and support. It does wonders to this writer! Hope you enjoy this chapter as much as you have enjoyed the previous ones! Happy reading!**_

* * *

It is a Saturday and Rachel is in the Taft High gym with the members of the Glee Club. She has been conducting rehearsals with the students, and has decided, given the time constraints (she has realized the auditions will be held around Thanksgiving, and the elimination rounds, just before Christmas break) that she will have to use a few Saturdays or so for rehearsals with the students. The students have groaned in protest, but most of them are in attendance today, save for Abdul, Jamal and Amy, who have mentioned work and errands as reasons for possibly not being able to make it. She has promised a speedy rehearsal and like the students, does not want a whole Saturday spent at Taft High.

The now empty, well-lit, clean, spacious gym is a welcome break from the basement, where the club usually practices three times a week on weekdays. The basement is dank and dark, musty and moldy, and smelled, for some strange reason, of armpits and feet and the pipes above constantly drip water. During one rehearsal, they had spotted a couple of rats lazily running around the floor, and one of the kids had told Rachel, "Miz B, that rat is looking at me funny." Rachel had resisted the urge to scream then, she did not like rats, but she was going to teach these kids music if it is the last thing she is going to do. In time, they got used to the smell, the dripping water and the rats (which the kids even named and fed, much to Rachel's exasperation), but Rachel is glad they are above ground today. She is campaigning to Principal Abrams every day for a better room and she feels a few more annoying visits to his office and he is going to cave in to her demands.

Gloria has come this Saturday to give her moral support, albeit in a limited capacity, sitting by the bleachers, looking after Suzie, whilst watching Rachel as she alternates between giving the students instructions and listening to them sing. Gloria has also offered to provide her services as a driver should Rachel be inclined to use her services. Alternately, Gloria says, she can also quite effectively strong arm any and all other teachers to help out, either as chaperones, costume makers, and so on, should they need extra hands. Rachel realizes why she has chosen Gloria.

Rachel is actually surprised that the students are still here, with her, as the students have not exactly made their dislike for Rachel's extra practice hours, homework, required reading and viewing a secret. The after school classes had included a required session on "Music and Choir Appreciation", reading notes, choral conducting techniques and film viewing. "Music and Choir Appreciation" included sections on the definition of choirs, its history from antiquity, to the Renaissance, to Baroque, Classical, Romantic, to the modern and contemporary period, arrangement and voice classifications. The session on reading notes required mastering reading music sheets, in which Baz, in complete frustration, complained that the figures looked Greek to him. The session on choral conducting techniques required mandatory learning of such terms as, and the gestures for, _forte_, _allegro_, _crescendo_, _diminuendo_, _accelerando_, _ritardando_, in which, Baz and some of the students, have enthusiastically described as "Miz B re-enacting scenes from 'The Exorcist'" . The required viewing of The Mormon Tabernacle Choir concert video clips, the documentary "Young At Heart" and a few clips of African American church choirs and Jewish synagogue choirs, on the other hand, have made some of the students complain of the pressure and have made them comment that no way will they sound like the Mormon Tabernacle Choir in time for the audition. She had also given each student a CD recording of vocalizations for the voice they are classified with (soprano, alto, bass, tenor). Each one is required to practice vocalizations at home and is required to record their voices should recording devices be available. In the event that there are none available, then Rachel will just listen to them at school, during her break time. Some of the Glee members have now taken to half-jokingly describing her as a bossy slave driver and have taken to calling her "Captain", "Master" and "Sir". Rachel is predictably holding a clip board with a progress chart of the students' abilities, each student listed on her chart with notes on their issues and problems with singing. The same chart includes the academic performance of each student as well. She has spent the better part of the morning providing each of them feedback on their progress.

There had been a little objection as to the voice classification, some believing they were soprano instead of alto, some complaining being alto was hard, some complaining that it was hard to learn a new voice or tone or melody when other people were singing, or as some claim, _screaming_ in their ears. Kenyatta had been unhappy about being asked to take it down a notch, instead of belting out each note like Beyoncé. "You're part of a choir… a team now, Kenyatta, you can't be singing like you're the only one in the room, you have to listen to the others, too," Rachel had told her. Thankfully, Anferny had been much more amicable and compliant when she had instructed him to sing a note or two lower, so that his voice blends in better with the others. He had just nodded and his voice had mingled with the rest of the voices like a drop in a stream.

The first time the club had tried to sing together as a group was mortifying, discordant to say the least. Everyone, individually, had a really good, if not impressive, voice. But the challenge was how to control that voice, sing with restraint, learn how to listen to their teammates, make their voices merge with the other ones, harmonize, sing as an actual group and come up with a sound that was harmonious. They still have a long way to go, but each day they practice have made them begin to sound more and more like a group.

Santana has seen her punishing schedule and has told her she is glad that she is not in her Glee Club and now appreciates Mr. Schuester's "headless chicken" kind of leadership. "Your obsessiveness and thoroughness know no bounds," Santana has joked, quickly kissing her on the cheek to soften the blow of her comment. "You know it," Rachel has retorted gamely. "I can't wait for you to start storyboarding!" Santana has said after, with a grin and a wink, which is met by Rachel rolling her eyes at her.

* * *

Suzie sits beside Gloria now on the bleachers, half-watching Rachel's kids while watching something on her laptop. Suzie has taken to coming with Rachel to her rehearsals and does not actually mind it. In fact, she prefers it, as she does not want to be left alone at home, or be left in the care of a babysitter, and she sometimes does not want to hang out with friends from school. Santana is working Saturdays at the firm these days anyway, working on that big LGBT immigration case with that Miranda Vanderbilt co-worker, so it seemed more logical to just bring Suzie with Rachel. Santana, who is working right now, has told her she is picking them up after rehearsals.

Rachel has noted that Suzie, living up to the expectation of being a moody pre-teen, has been given to mood swings to rival that of Santana's when they were in high school. She knows this started that day on the steps of Green Avenue Academy when she had gone to pick Suzie up and Suzie broke the news, in the most dramatic, soap operatic of ways, that she, Suzie, cannot actually sing. An embarrassment, Suzie points out, considering Santana and Rachel are both singers, and Brittany had also sung a few times in high school. This thus means, according to Suzie, that she will not, as they had earlier predicted, get the girl, or even impress the girl, but will, in all actuality, forever remain a loser and a geek.

Rachel had resisted the urge to laugh, trying instead for a confused, questioning look on her face that hopefully will be mistaken for sympathy and understanding. Suzie had said it so dramatically, that it had almost sounded comical. Rachel had wondered if she was like this when she was young. When prompted as to why Suzie has said this, Suzie had sighed and declared in an exasperated tone, "Don't you know? I can't sing, and if I can't sing, I can't join the Christmas program, and if I can't join the Christmas program, I'll never be able to impress Kate…and my life is over and I'm a loser…"

It had occurred to Rachel then when she had looked at Suzie then that even though Suzie looks exactly like Santana and Brittany's progeny, Suzie sometimes reminds Rachel as well of how she was when she that age. Rachel had sent a silent prayer up above that she survive Suzie's overly dramatic pubescent yearnings.

"Okay," Rachel had said. "I'm sure there are other ways to impress a girl."

Suzie had whipped around to look at her. "Like what?" she had demanded. "I mean, no offense, Mee, but you kind of have only been with mom, which is a good thing, of course, but you can't really give me advice on how to impress a girl. And, as you know, _mom_ has no game."

Rachel had blushed then as she tried to come up with a fitting advice for Suzie. The rest of that afternoon, and in fact, every waking moment spent with Suzie since, has been devoted to finding a way to impress Kate, after which they had settled on looking for a suitable musical instrument for Suzie to play. This, in itself, has involved hours of enduring Suzie playing any and all musical instruments available for Suzie to assault, conveniently borrowed from the school. Thus, she and Santana have been treated to a daily dose of screeching violins, discordant guitars, pounding drums, annoying triangles, screaming flutes and other instruments. Santana had told Rachel then, trying to be heard above the din, in a half-joking, half-threatening voice, that this girl had better be worth it.

* * *

Rachel now waves at Suzie up at the bleachers. Suzie grins and waves back. Rachel notes that the child is in a good mood now, so that is good.

Rachel glances at her watch and finds that they still have enough time for a brief club meeting. She thus announces that rehearsals are over, but that she wants to discuss something with them.

The kids sit on the gym floor, waiting for her to speak.

With the pen she is holding in her hand, she writes the word "Appropriateness" on the board, and feels so much like Mr. Schuester doing it that it embarrasses her. She has been doing a lot of these lately. In fact, she had one session in which she announced a "No hooking up with teammates" rule, much to the chagrin of Baz and the boys, in which she extolled the virtues of keeping their hands off of each other for the sake of the group and to avoid any future, untoward awkwardness before and during competitions. Santana would probably tease her now if she saw her.

"Alright, I've gone over your suggestions for the set list and I think we need to talk about some rules," Rachel begins now. "First of all, no song with the F-word, the N-word in it or songs with words such as bitch, a—hole, 'ho, skank or the many other colorful, creative ways in which you call each other affectionately."

"What's the f-word?" Abdul asks.

"Better yet, what's the N-Word, Miz B?" Kareem asks, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Rachel blushes. "You know what the f-word means."

"And the N-Word?" Kareem prods.

Rachel rolls her eyes. "You _definitely_ know what that means!" she says. "So, anyway BMX, OCD, Dr. Dread and LL Bean J are definitely out."

"BMX?" Baz asks.

"OCD?" Kareem adds in.

"Dr. Dread? LL Bean J?" McG wonders.

There is a brief silence as everyone wonders who Rachel is talking about, then Baz suddenly hits on it. "Oh, you mean DMX, ODB, Dr. Dre and LL Cool J?"

Everyone laughs. Rachel's ears turn pink.

"I don't know which is funnier – you actually having heard of those rappers," Baz says, "Or you _not_ getting the names right."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Rachel says. She had gone over the songs with Santana when she received the suggestions from the students. She remembers Santana playing the songs on their stereo in their living room and pretending to be street, rapping or singing along with the lyrics as Rachel had frowned and grimaced and resisted the urge to put her fingers in her ears. "It's part of your continuing education, baby," Santana had said then, laughing at Rachel's expression, knowing Rachel is only familiar with mainstream RnB singers such as Beyoncé. Like her students, Santana thinks there is nothing funnier than classically trained, Broadway-schooled Rachel trying to listen to hip hop to be in with the kids. "Baby, please don't pull a Mr. Schuester and start rapping Vanilla Ice's 'Ice, Ice Baby' or Kanye West's 'Gold Digger' or, you know, make like Miss Holliday and sing Ceelo Green," Santana had warned her, "'Cause that would totally embarrass me. I'd totally deny that you are my girlfriend." Santana has always thought Mr. Schuester's rapping an atrocious, mortifying sin against hip hop, and has, on more than one occasion, made fun of him for it as she can actually rap and he cannot. Rachel had rolled her eyes at her then.

"Alright, that's enough," Rachel says. "Also, nothing about drugs. So, 'The Next Episode' or any other song like it, is out."

There is a collective groan from the students.

"It says, 'Smoke weed everyday'," Rachel points out. "Also, nothing with sexual content in it. So Boyz II Men's 'I'll Make Love To You' is out."

Baz asks, "But…why?"

"Because," Rachel says patiently, "It has the L-Word in it."

"The L-Word?" Baz asks. "Lesbian?"

Rachel glares at him. "No. The _other_ L-Word."

"Lesbian_sss_?" Baz ventures another guess.

"Make _love_, idiot," Kenyatta snaps. "What do you expect? We can't even read '50 Shades of Grey' in class."

Now Rachel glares at Kenyatta. "Let it go, Kenyatta. Let it go."

"Besides, we can't be singing _'Throw your clothes, on the floor, and I'll take my clothes off, too'_…"Kenyatta continues.

"Yes, that's enough," Rachel interrupts her. She can feel another headache coming. "Which means, Dubs," at this, Dubs, silent all this time, looks up, "Tom Jones' 'You Can Leave Your Hat On' and Hot Chocolate's 'You Sexy Thing' are out, too."

Dubs makes a face and hangs his head. Dubs, who has volunteered to help out with Glee Club, has taken to joining rehearsals, learning the rudiments of playing the electronic organ that Mr. Smith,to Rachel's surprise, has donated to the Glee Club. When Rachel ventures a question as to why Mr. Smith would donate it to the club, Mr. Smith has said that it had belonged to his wife and she did not need it anymore. He does not offer any more explanation, so Rachel had said, "Thank you. You know you're still not getting lucky with me, right?" Mr. Smith had shrugged and just grinned.

"We can't do Nirvana's 'Smells Like Teen Spirit', too," Rachel continues now. As the students groan, she adds, "I know, I know, it's a cool song and everything, but we should probably save that for a later date, okay? Also, we can't have The Verve Pipe's 'Freshmen', okay? That one has the V-word in it."

"V-Word?" Baz guesses. "Vendetta?"

"No, stupid," Kenyatta snaps.

"Vagina?" Baz tries again.

"What the _hell_ is up with you and vaginas?!" Kenyatta asks, looking at him. "Slow year, Baz? Not getting any or something?"

Baz looks down embarrassed.

"Valium, Baz. Valium. And need I remind you there is a minor in the room, so I ask everyone, _again_, to keep this strictly PG," Rachel says, spying a look at Suzie, who is not paying attention at all to her or to the kids. "If that's not too much to ask."

"Sorry, Miz B," Baz says.

"So that means Janet Jackson's 'Tonight's The Night' is out, too, huh?" Maya asks.

"If that's her cover of Rod Stewart's song, then yes," Rachel says, quickly. "And yes, no 'Lady Marmalade' either."

"Aw, Janet Jackson is hot," Baz comments.

"Yes, she is, but do you want to win ten thousand dollars or not?" Rachel asks. "This is about strategy and making a good first impression. Getting a foot in the door . Two songs, people. We just need two songs for our audition."

There is silence in the room as everyone starts to think about songs. Suddenly Baz's hands go up.

"Yes, Baz," Rachel asks, a little tiredly.

"Why do they say get a foot in the door?" Baz asks.

Rachel resists the urge to scream. "Focus, Baz, focus!" Sometimes, Rachel thinks, her students get so easily distracted, she feels like it will drive her nuts.

"How about some black music?" Kareem predictably suggests.

"Yeah!" the others agree.

"Whitney Houston!"

"She sang white music!"

"What the fff-heck is white music?!"

"Screw that! Mariah Carey! But classic Mariah! Not sell-out Mariah!"

"She ain't black!"

"And you ain't really black either, so shut up!"

"So, no Will Smith, too, then? He the whitest black person I know."

"Hey, don't be dissing Will Smith. A brother's gotta do what a brother's gotta do!"

"Beyoncé then!"

"She ain't a real artist! She a corporate artist! She in it for the money!"

"Then every artist ain't a real artist!"

"How about some Aretha Franklin? Let's sing 'You Make Me Feel Like A Natural Woman'."

"'You Make Me Feel Like A Natural Woman'?! What the fff—heck does that even _mean_?!"

"I _know_, right? You know what really bothers me though? That Bee Gees song, 'More Than a Woman'…What does it mean when you say, 'You're more than a woman to me'?! If you're more than a woman…does that mean you're a man? Or maybe a gay man? Maybe a transsexual?"

"Stop being such a sexist a—hole!"

"It's a legit question, y'all! That ain't sexist!"

"Macy Gray?"

"Yeah, she great, but can we really sing her?"

"Can anyone, really?"

"Alright!" Rachel almost shouts. "Enough. We need to decide and we need to decide now. I know I said we'll be as democratic as we possibly can be in this club, but right now, I'm putting my foot down. And Baz, so help me god, if you're going to ask me one more time why people say 'putting my foot down', I'm going to make you read music sheets til graduation!" Rachel says, annoyed. "And I don't want any of this black or white or whatever in this club anymore. I won't allow it. Music knows no skin color. Or sexual orientation or gender for that matter. We choose the song because everyone likes it and everyone enjoys it and everyone has agreed on it."

Kareem looks at her then, and gives her a slight smile and a nod. The rest of the kids are quiet. Anferny speaks up, suggests a song, and the others join in in the discussion one by one, until everyone is again up in arms over song choices. And this is why, she knows, it has taken them this long to choose a set list in the first place – everyone just seems to be more passionate and opinionated (and, no one will admit it, but very geeky) about music and song choices than anyone else that Rachel has met, save probably for Kurt and NYADA music majors. In fact, the choosing of the name of their Glee Club itself, was the result of much heated debate much like the impassioned one they are having right now. Much of the arguments then on the name of the club had centered on how racist or sexist some of the suggested names were, which in turn had unexpectedly veered into a discussion on whether a name is just a name or if it also affects how people perceive a certain person or group or if it can perpetuate a stereotype or change a particular stereotype. This went into a discussion on images and symbols in the media and in the music industry in particular, but this particular discussion is an ongoing one the kids have with each other and she does not see an end in sight for that discussion.

For her part, she was just concerned about _not_ having a name that would be mistaken for something else, or made fun of (like New Directions was sometimes known as either "No Directions" or the more horrifying, "Nude Erections", which, considering it was Mr. Schuester who had come up with it, must have been some kind of Freudian slip that reflected his own mental state at the time). The names for the club had eventually been narrowed down to "Boyz in Da Hood" (sexist), "Coffee and Cream" (racist), "Black Soundz" (not inclusive), "Hood Soundz" (perpetuating stereotypes), "Harmony in Da Hood" (too long), before finally settling on "Brooklyn Beatz" or BkB, for short. She had to compromise on the spelling, when the students insisted the name be spelled with a "z" at the end, after she successfully negotiated that their name be at least grammatically correct as the mere thought of a grammatically incorrect name for a club filled her with horror.

Presently, after much name calling, threats of cutting, whacking and putting each other out of commission, they all decide on "It's So Hard to Say Goodbye to Yesterday" by Boyz II Men and Etta James' "Oh, Happy Day".

Rachel nods with satisfaction, and tells everyone she will make the arrangements and email the arrangements to everyone. She expects everyone to at least have learned the arrangements on the weekend (the trademark collective groan emanate from the students) in time for practice next week. She starts to gather up her things and readies to call it a day for everyone when Kenyatta stands up and says, "Before we all go, I'd like to propose something first."

Rachel stops and waits for Kenyatta to continue. She swears sometimes, Kenyatta reminds her of high school Quinn and Santana _combined_, just by the sheer annoyance she can sometimes elicit from Rachel every time she opens her mouth. But if Santana were here, she would probably point out how Rachel was equally as annoying as well.

"Well, I think it is but fair that if _we_ auditioned to sing in Glee Club, then Miz B has to audition, too, don't you think?" Kenyatta asks the other kids. She then turns to Rachel and says, "You have to sing a song for us too, Miz B. You have to audition for us."

Rachel sighs. She has not sang in a while, although her doctor has given her the thumbs up for it, only warning her to sing at a lower register so as not to strain her vocal chords again. Her doctor had told her years of singing at a higher register has strained her vocal chords and she has to take better care of her voice if she expects to continue singing. In fact, her doctor says, at her advanced age (she had glared at her doctor, as she is actually nowhere near an advanced stage and is still actually quite relatively young) she is already expected to sing at a lower register just to preserve her voice.

She knows that this is one of those unavoidable moments when, as she recalls, the need to establish credibility with and respect from the students is crucial. She has been called to establish her credibility (as if her very thorough teaching methods and advising skills are not enough, she thinks) and she knows she has to rise up to the challenge. She searches her mind for a suitable song, a song she can sing comfortably. Thankfully, she has songs in her iPhone that she keeps for when she wants to play something else in Santana's car, and she searches her iPhone now for a song she can sing. She finds one and gestures to Baz to get the speakers for her. When Baz comes with the speakers, she connects her phone to it and as the first strains of Rent's "Seasons of Love" start to play, she says to the class, "This is a song from the Broadway musical 'Rent' entitled, 'Seasons of Love'. I'm sorry, I'm a bit rusty, but since you asked, then here goes…"

The students all sit back on the gym floor, as they wait for her to sing.

Rachel has not sung in a while, but it is not for lack of trying. Once she left West End, she had taken an indefinite leave from Broadway as well and hit upon the idea, much to everyone's objection, of teaching high school. She has not forgotten to sing though, and she feels the same way she feels every time she comes on stage: nervous, scared, excited, hyperactive, the butterflies gathering in her stomach and preparing to fly away as she readies herself to sing. And then she starts to sing,

_Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes_

_Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred moments so dear_

_Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes_

_How do you measure,_

_Measure a year?_

She has closed her eyes now, lets the rhythm, the melody, the _music_ go through her, lift her, take her out of this gym, and into somewhere else, an unknown realm nobody knows about, something beyond this world, where her soul is free and happy and joyous…

_In daylights, in sunsets_

_In midnights, in cups of coffee_

_In inches, in miles_

_In laughter, in strife_

_In five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes_

_How do you measure a year in the life_

She lets the joy lift her up now, lets it warm her from within, lets her voice be the medium with which to convey the message, the emotion, the beauty of the song…During these moments, she remembers, she realizes, she is no longer just Rachel, she is a vessel, a medium, for music, for beautiful music to pass through. This never ceases to humble her, to know that she does not own the music, that the music owns her instead…

_How about love? How about love? How about love? _

_Measure in love_

_Seasons of love_

_Seasons of love_

That has made all the difference for her. That was what changed for her all those years ago in NYADA. It was what changed for her in Broadway. What changed when she got sick and had to have that operation. The pursuit of fame and fortune, in light of what she realized was a gift she possessed that not everyone had, seemed superficial suddenly. And it all seemed suddenly even more superficial, for some strange reason, this blind, obsessive pursuit of wealth and celebrity when she had reconnected with Santana then and realized Santana was doing the exact opposite of what Rachel had devoted her whole life to, up to then. Rachel could not explain it, but she had felt then this inexplicable need to _deserve_ Santana, to be worthy of this girl she once knew from high school who had turned into a woman Rachel suddenly realizes she can love, _wants_ to love.

Presently, she continues with rest of the song. It is not an altogether long song in the first place and she is finished before she knows it. When the last notes of the song fade away, her eyes fly open and she realizes everyone is quiet, from her students, to Gloria and Suzie up on the bleachers, who are watching her as well. She feels, for the nth time, her face burn. Her students are speechless, takes it all in. She is not sure but she spies a few shocked faces, although the shocked silence more than speaks for itself. She can almost hear Santana saying something to her then like, "Oooh, yeah, still got the touch, baby!"

Rachel smiles a bit nervously now.

The students seem to recover quickly and when one of them makes a comment, the rest follow and she thinks to herself, "_Aaaaand_ they're back…"

"What's that song?"

"Never heard of of it."

"Sounds like it's something my nana would like."

"It was probably popular _during_ your nana's time."

"Musta been famous during the Mesozoic era."

"What's the Mesozoic era?"

"Seriously Baz, how are you surviving high school right now?"

"It has numbers in it and stuff."

"You lost me at five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes."

"How many hours is that?"

"That's three hundred sixty five days, stupid."

"Stop calling me that."

"I don't understand why you couldn't just say three hundred sixty five days."

"But what would you do with the extra notes?"

"You could add a few more '_la la la la las'_ there. I'm sure that'd work."

Rachel rolls her eyes for the nth time and says, "Yes, fine, whatever. Now that we have established you do not appreciate good music when you hear one," and before a student can say anything, she quickly adds, "Not that hip hop is not good music, mind you…did I pass the audition or not?"

The students make like they are thinking about this hard and make to look at each other. There is a silence among some of the students, whilst the others lean over and confer with each other. Rachel grabs her iPhone and folds her arms before her, tapping her foot in front of her.

"You kinda sang that song a little too high."

"You have spirit fingers!"

"You make funny faces when you sing."

Rachel puts her hands on her hips now, arms akimbo, glaring at the students. The students look back at her, not backing down.

Finally, Baz guffaws and says, "Just messin' witcha, Miz B. It was okay."

It was okay? Rachel thinks. She sings a song from a musical that almost won her a Tony and her student says it was only _okay_? Rachel resists the urge to be annoyed.

What she does is dismiss everyone before she loses it, giving last minute instructions to the students who have now found the exit door the most important part of the gym.

Rachel and Suzie wait for Santana outside Taft High for a few minutes. All the students have left. The weather is cold, but not by much. She is thankful she remembers to clothe herself and Suzie in warm clothes for the inevitably long wait for Santana by the steps of the school.

Presently, Gloria drives by and offers a ride to them, but Rachel shakes her head, says somebody is picking them up. Gloria asks if she is sure, and as Rachel scans the streets from both directions, she is not sure, but if Santana says she is going to pick them up, then she will.

More than a half hour later, Santana is still nowhere to be seen.

"I'm hungry, Mee," Suzie, who is sitting on the steps, says.

As if on cue, Rachel's cellphone beeps and she sees a message from Santana. "Hey, babe," the message reads. "I can't come pick you up. I'm sorry. Something came up at the office. Working with Miranda on case. So sorry. Will make it up to you as soon as I get home. Love you both!"

Rachel tries not to be unhappy about Santana's text. Santana usually is very good at leaving messages, or calling, when she knows she cannot make it. In fact, Santana seems to be very busy these days, coming home at all hours of the night, missing dinners, movie night, date night (which is really movie night, except on a different night) and other activities like parent-teacher conferences at Suzie's school. When she _does_ come home, she is usually so inundated with work that Rachel and Suzie cannot really talk to her as she already has her laptop on, and already hunkering down to read papers on her desk in her little office beyond Suzie's room. Rachel does not want to complain about this. She had known what she was getting herself into. Santana has always been a workaholic, has loved her work more than anything. It is what she loves most about Santana – the passion she has about her work. But lately, she has come home with more and more work. This LGBT human rights immigration case she has mentioned to Rachel seems to be taking up too much of her time making her stay out late, spend sleepless nights in her office, or work on them before they go to bed. That is why Rachel enjoys those little moments when she can actually have some time with Santana.

She sighs now, looks at Suzie and decides to call a cab.

"Let's go have lunch," she tells Suzie and smiles.

* * *

_**Author's end notes:**_

_**That's it for this chapter! **_**:-)**_** I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. As always your kind, encouraging reviews are welcome and goes a long way for this overworked fan fic writer! ;) I hope this and the succeeding chapters do not disappoint! **_**:)**

_**To **__**kutee –**_ _**many thanks for your comments. Re: Old Rachel – this is one of those times when Old Rachel is actually much more fun, since she puts her persistency and determination to good use. **_**:-) **_**Re: Kids in Rachel's class, Baz – yeah, they're fun aren't they? **_**:)**

_**Interesting you mention being classified as alto, as I was alto in Glee Club as well. Disliked it as well as it can be really hard to sing the alto part when you are with the other singers. :)**_

_**To parker88**__** – **__**Again, thanks for the comment! Hoped you enjoyed this chapter, too!**_

_**To **__**silent lucidity – Thanks for your comment! Yeah, I love my 90s music, too! **_**:) **_**Glad you're loving it! Yeah, Dangerous Minds and Sister Act are inspirations for this story (among other things!). :-) Thanks for saying it's getting better and better - I hope succeeding chapters do not disappoint. Re: Suzie – thanks for the comment!**_

_**Grateful acknowledgement by the way to Lucy O'Brien's "She Bop II" which provides a comprehensive history of women in music (from Billie Holiday to Beyonce and beyond **_**:)**_** ). I highly recommend it.**_

_**To DragonsWillFly – All this would not have been possible without your support. Many thanks as always for the patience and for always coming through for me. You are always much appreciated. **_**:)**

_**Featured song you are required to check out: "Seasons of Love" from the musical Rent. :-) But feel free to check out the other musical choices/suggestions as well! 'Cause that's always fun! ;) **_

_**Chapter 9 coming soon! **_


	9. The Hangover

_**Author's note: Dear readers, Chapter 9 is up! Happy reading!**_

* * *

The soft rays of the early afternoon sun stream through the kitchen window as Rachel checks student papers and Suzie does her homework on the kitchen table. Rachel is drinking freshly brewed coffee, red pen in hand as she reads over the papers. Occasionally, Suzie would turn to her and ask her or show her a particular problem and Rachel would guide her to the right answer, eliciting a grin and a thank you from Suzie.

Turning back to the papers, she alternately sighs or smiles at the papers her students have written on "Catcher in the Rye". Baz has predictably written that he _skeeves_ Holden Caulfield and finds the scene where Holden watches somebody clip their toenails pointless, strange, disgusting and really creepy. Dubs writes how much he enjoys how nihilistic the central character is. Anferny, whose papers Rachel is beginning to enjoy despite grammatical slips, split infinitives, fragments, run-ons and confusing verb tenses, has turned _his_ paper on Holden Caulfield into a treatise on universal adolescent issues of uncertainty, confusion and identity crisis, whilst Kareem wrote a somewhat heated treatise on Holden Caulfield as the archetype of the disconnected, white, middle class American privileged young male with typical "white male problems". McG attempts to connect Holden Caulfield's dilemma as a meaningless existential crisis with no resolution or end in sight in an increasingly disconnected post-industrial, technological world. Kenyatta, for her part, wrote, in not so many words, and in a very roundabout way, about sexual repression in 1960s America. Hannah and Maya's papers are a bit identical in opinion, although they use different words and structures. Rachel has a strict "no-plagiarizing" policy in class, and has indicated that if she ever catches anyone copying someone else's work, that the "A" she has conferred on them will be retracted. She actually requires students to send her a soft copy and hard copy of their papers for this exact reason. The students have complained about this, but so far, they have tried, as much as they can, to comply. Knowing Rachel, they know they will be found out sooner or later anyway, so better to comply than lose the "A" conferred so freely to them.

Maya is the more capable student amongst the two, and she knows Maya may have helped Hannah with her paper. Hannah and Maya's friendship actually remind her of Santana and Brittany's friendship in high school, although she does not think they are actually into each other (her gaydar, honed to perfection from being the child of two gay dads and being Kurt's best friend, has indicated that there is nothing going on with them).

She sighs and pushes the papers away from her. The others are short, uninteresting, uninterested comments about the novel and she knows she will be done with them in no time.

She thus, instead grabs a different sheaf of papers from her pile of papers (she notes that paperwork is taking over her life) and goes over them. One crazy day, she actually brought her iPhone and a pair of speakers in class, and played Simon and Garfunkel's "Sound of Silence" to the class. She gave everyone a copy of the lyrics and after everyone has predictably commented that they did not know what the song meant, and have never heard of it, she asked the class to look for a song, story, a poem, even a news article or a historical event, _anything_, that reflects what the meaning of the song is. She has said that the best essay with the most plausible juxtaposition of "Sound of Silence" to a particular passage will be given a gift certificate from PizzaHut. They all predictably complained about it but they have all complied with the assignment. As she skims and scans through the papers, she finds some interesting discourse, and wonders, for the nth time, why her students would be classified as underachieving misfits (or the more colorful "hooligans") when they come up with papers like these.

Dubs, for example, writes about "Sound of Silence" being the feeling of being invisible, like H.G. Wells "The Invisible Man" , H.F. Saint's "Memoirs of an Invisible Man" and Robert Cormier's "Fade". He writes that "Sound of Silence" is the sound of someone ignored, the sound of someone slowly fading away, disappearing.

McG, talks about the "Sound of Silence" being the silence, the disconnect, that technology has created between and amongst people, despite the fact that technology has made it possible for everyone to connect through technological marvels as mobile phones, tablets, laptops, the internet, facebook and twitter. People, McG says, are talking less and less to people that matter, and are talking more and more about things that do not, posting half-naked photos of themselves on twitter, or what they had for lunch on facebook, but unable to carry on decent conversations with family and friends who they may not have talked to probably for the past few months or even years. People nowadays, McG says, bow to these modern-day "Neon gods" they made, alternately impressed and awed and unable to break free from the paradoxical enslavement of technology. McG, she has found out, is short for "McGeek" and McG is known in their circles as the resident geek, so it is fitting he would find a connection between the song and technology.

Kareem, on the other hand, finds a correlation between "Sound of Silence" and OutKast's "Phobia", writing about how racism is the sound of silence, of the darkness, the silent scream of everyone who is the perpetual "Other" in America, everyone who has felt some form of racial discrimination or prejudice because of race, color, creed, religion or sexual orientation . He comments that the racism is so deeply rooted, so deeply ingrained in American culture that to speak out about it, to fight against it, is much like swimming upstream in a downstream river, much like the lyrics of the Sound of Silence: "_people talking without speaking, people hearing without listening_". He cites quotes from Malcolm X, Eldridge Cleaver, Martin Luther King, Maya Angelou and Toni Morrison to support his thesis and juxtaposes his arguments further with historical accounts, anecdotes, news reports and statistics. Rachel is thankful she recognizes the writers he cites and thanks Santana for this. Rachel is impressed with the paper and finds that given the right material, Kareem can bring out a knack for analysis. She just skims the paper, but scribbles an encouraging note in her trademark, expansive, curly cursive handwriting with a star at the end of it.

Kenyatta had done "Sound of Silence" with "Twilight" and "50 Shades of Grey" (she seriously will not let this go, Rachel thinks), comparing the darkness and silence, to issues of sexuality and who controls sexuality in society. Rachel is quite surprised, actually, that Kenyatta would find some pearl in the muck that is these kinds of writing (yet another reason Santana calls her a snob, along with her penchant for playing Puccini and Streisand alternately, in the car). In fact, Kenyatta had cited rich, white, male, privileged heterosexual politicians as the culprits, the ones who are making it hard for women in America, regardless of skin color, to have proper access to contraception and abortion, citing instances when politicians had used such terms as "legitimate rape" and "illegitimate rape" to justify denying women their rights. She had ended by saying the woman's body is a battleground, and women, unable to voice out their concerns, are forever being silenced because the powers that be declare women's issues as not issues at all. And this goes through as well, Kenyatta says, for women all over the world: "Around the world, one woman dies every 90 seconds from complications of pregnancy and childbirth…that's more than 350,000 women every year. Women are not dying of diseases we can't treat…They are dying because societies have yet to make the decision that their lives are worth saving…" she quotes a 'Women's Rights News' website.

Anferny writes about the sound of silence being the silence and uncertainty, the isolation and loneliness, confusion and crisis, the _alienation_, of youth. She notes this is the theme of his past paper as well and wonders if everything is okay with Anferny. He had actually compared "Sound of Silence" with "Catcher in the Rye", surprisingly enough, but he was able to pull off comparing both, citing passages from the novel as it relates to the song.

And Baz compared "Sound of Silence" to a Nina Simone song, "I Wish I Knew How it is to be Free". She reads over Baz's paper, and despite the grammatical slips, wrong prepositional use, split infinitives, run-ons and fragments, dangling modifiers, inconsistent verb tenses and misspelled words (she notes though that his writing now is a bit better now than it was before, as he seems to have made extra effort to correct his writing), his insight into Simon and Garfunkel's song as it parallels Nina Simone's song surprises Rachel so much that she drops her pen, rests her chin on the palm of her hand, and looks out the window, staring at the trees that line the street below, the building across theirs, and the cars that pass by the street. The building across the street mirrors that of their own building: old, nineteenth century landmark rowhouses on clean, safe, tree-lined streets. Despite herself, she realizes she really likes this neighborhood.

"You okay, Mee?" Suzie asks, looking up from her own homework, concern on her face when she notices Rachel has stopped checking and scribbling on the papers.

Rachel brings herself back to the present, turns her head, focuses on Suzie, forgets for a moment what was asked, then says, "Huh? What? Yeah, I'm okay…"

Suzie nods and goes back to her homework. Suzie's good mood has had a good run for the past few days, persisting unabated as her friendship with Kate continues. There is a blessed silence in the house today. She and Santana had once sat Suzie down and patiently told her that if this girl likes her, then she likes her and no amount of bad singing or bad music making will change that. And if Kate does not like her, then she just has to live with the consequences. Suzie had refused to listen then, insisting that music is the way to a girl's heart. At the time, she had however, asked them how they got together in the first place. Suzie knows they knew each other from high school, and both Rachel and Santana had been vague on the details of their very antagonistic frenemy kind of quasi-friendship in high school, but this question had taken both by surprise. Both had blushed, Rachel had looked down, Santana had looked away, and each one mumbles something vague about being kind of friends by the end of senior year in high school and having reconnected in college, before both drift off in silence. Suzie had looked at them both, exasperated, and had said, "Well, you guys are a great help!" Rachel had finally said, exasperated herself, "Well, why don't you just be friends with her? Talk to her, hang out with her, invite her over, have dinner here with her or something, I don't know. Singing and being able to play a musical instrument aren't the only ways to get the girl you know!" Santana had smirked at Rachel slightly then, and Rachel had blushed again, remembering that alcohol can sometimes do the trick, too. It took a while, and a number of musical instruments being played badly, before Suzie realizes Rachel and Santana are right. Suzie has stopped trying to play music. This is predictably the after-school activity that she lets go of as well.

Finding the courage to ask Kate to come over for dinner though, took longer than expected and Suzie finally finds it in herself to call Kate today, this morning, over the phone, with Rachel in front of her, coaching her, mouthing the replies or scribbling them furiously on a pad of paper when Suzie runs out of things to say. Kate had said she would have to think about it, ask permission but that she would definitely give her a call before the afternoon ends. Kate had told her then that she does not know if she will be allowed out, but that she may be able to invite Suzie over instead. This gives Suzie hope and gives her a newfound energy as she rushes through her homework. She is patiently waiting for the call on her mobile phone and keeps glancing at her phone every few seconds. Suzie seems slightly distracted and Rachel can tell she is restless and impatient, as Suzie sometimes taps her pen against her notebook, or starts rocking back and forth from her chair.

A door from beyond the kitchen door opens and closes and bare feet slapping against the wooden tiled floor approach the kitchen and is followed by someone's raspy, husky voice asking, "Where _is_ everybody?!"

"In here, mom!" Suzie calls out, when Rachel gives no indication to answer Santana's query.

Presently Santana enters, freshly showered, smelling of shampoo and soap, rubbing her left hand on her forehead. She is wearing a tank top and short shorts and makes for the nearest chair on the table, facing Suzie and Santana. Rachel looks her over, inwardly nods with approval at how Santana looks today, all sexy and unconventionally beautiful. What is she doing? Rachel checks herself, reminds herself she is still annoyed at Santana.

Santana rests her head on her hands and leans over, groans. Rachel and Suzie are quiet. Rachel can see that she is nursing a hangover.

"You okay, mom?" Suzie ventures a question, looking up from her notebook.

Santana groans in answer, slumps forward on the table, head resting on bare arms.

Despite her annoyance, Rachel rolls her eyes and says, "Are you hungry?"

Santana groans in answer and Rachel gets up to get her a coffee cup, puts in freshly brewed coffee and half-slams it in front of Santana. Santana jumps up at the noise.

Suzie, looking up and staring from one woman to the other, decides this is probably a good time to exit the kitchen (arguments between them can get ugly) and she quietly does so, gathering up her notebooks, textbooks, pens and highlighters and makes for the door even as Rachel opens and slams cupboards and cabinets, brings out a skillet and slams it on the stove, opens and slams the fridge door, and slams a couple of eggs onto the skillet.

"Ah, noise, noise, too much noise," Santana complains, "Too loud…"

The smell of eggs frying, coupled with the racket Rachel is making in the kitchen, makes Santana's head go up, makes her elicit a whining groan and says, "Oh god, I think I'm going to throw up. So much noise…Please stop…"

Rachel, still annoyed, comes up to Santana, folds her arms in front of her and says, "Serves you right for staying up late and drinking all night long!"

"I said I was sorry," Santana says now, in a frustrated tone that suggests she has been apologizing for the better part of the day.

"You said you were picking us up yesterday."

"I'm sorry. I _told_ you I was working late. There was no way I could pick you up."

"I understand that," Rachel says, "But you made us wait for the better part of an _hour_. And your text was _late_. We had to call a cab."

"I'm sorry. I kind of…totally forgot…" Santana says. "And anyway, I did text you in the end, didn't I? That has to count for something…"

"You totally _forgot?_ I can't believe you, Santana," Rachel fumes. "I guess staying up all late partying counts as working late nowadays, huh?"

"Rach, please, I am nursing the worst hangover since…forever…and I really am not in the mood to argue semantics with you," Santana says.

"Oh sure, Santana," Rachel says, "So when you come home at five in the morning, all drunk and barely able to string two words together, with blood on your forehead…I guess I should just grin and bear it, right? I should just put up with listening to you whimper, welcome the smell of alcohol and cigarettes on your breath as you attempt some early morning booty call with me, alternately crying and annoyed as you say 'It'll only take a minute, I promise'?"

Santana looks up now, screws up her eyes, looks at Rachel with her dark, searching eyes. Rachel averts her gaze. She hates it when she gets like this, and she knows this will get them nowhere, but she cannot help it. She is just so irritated with Santana right now. She smells burning eggs and goes to the stove to turn it off and take the skillet off it. She stays by the counter, waiting for Santana to continue.

"I'm sorry…about that…about everything," Santana says, looking embarrassed at the last part of Rachel's statement. "I really _was_ working late," she continues. "But, well, we kind of needed a break, and it was Miranda's birthday anyway, so we kind of just…decided to celebrate, hit the clubs a bit. I swear I never meant to come home at five, it was just…"

And here Santana stops, unable to explain further, sighs, and hangs her head on her hands. She reaches for the cup of coffee with her left hand and takes a sip. She makes a face when she realizes Rachel had not put sugar in it. Rachel now grabs the jar of sugar near her and shoves it in front of her. Santana mouths a thanks to her, as she puts a couple of spoonfuls of sugar in her cup, as if afraid that speaking would make the situation now even worse.

"Having fun, I know, I get it," Rachel says, "But you know how you get when you get too drunk. The sound of you heaving in the bathroom sink is _not_ something I want to hear ever again, Santana. And seeing blood on your face is not something anyone wants to see first thing in the morning. I swear this Miranda character seems like a bad influence on you."

Santana cradles her coffee cup between her hands and sips from the cup. Rachel sees her grimace at the bitterness of the coffee.

"I'm sorry," Santana croaks out. "Don't be mad anymore."

"Mad? I'm beyond mad," Rachel says. "I'm furious. I mean, here I was worried sick about you, wondering where you are, and you don't even have the decency to call or text me!"

Santana is silent, not knowing what to say. She knows better than to argue with Rachel right now. Rachel is mad and Santana knows better than to cross her. There is a brief silence during which they can only hear the ticking of the clock in the kitchen and the muffled sound of the television in the living room where Suzie has gone to avoid the scene unfolding now in the kitchen.

"You must be really mad," Santana finally comments after a time.

"What?" Rachel says, suddenly confused.

"You're calling me by my full first name," Santana says. "No term of endearment for me today."

Rachel ignores this and says, "And you smelled funny last night…You smelled like some baby prostitute who has been smoking too much!"

"Uh…"

"There were lipstick marks on the collar of your blouse.."

"Uh…"

"And is that a _hickie?!_"

Santana looks up, her fingers go up to her neck, tries to check, but obviously cannot and says, "Um…no…what? No…"

The kitchen phone chooses to ring at this time and with a sigh of relief Santana jumps up from her chair, grabs the phone and answers it.

Rachel, still annoyed, goes back to her chair, grabs some papers and tries to concentrate on checking them, but instead, cannot help but listen in on the conversation Santana is having on the phone.

"Hello?" Santana begins. "Hey, Quinn…" There is a pause, a silence as she listens to Quinn. "I'm good…yeah, Suzie and Rachel are good, too…but…now isn't really the right time, Quinn…we're kind of…in the middle of something…Gross, Quinn, no, not _that_… "

Santana spies a look at Rachel, who is still glaring at her. "Thanksgiving?" Rachel hears Santana ask into the phone. "What? Why? Why here? Rachel's Jewish and I'm Hispanic, what on earth will we do with Thanksgiving?...My _mom_…? She _what_?...My _mom_ called _you_?... You guys are _coming_?... Rachel _knows_?...and your husband is _okay_ with this? And your _child_?..."

Rachel hears the pause, then Santana looks at Rachel. "Well…it would seem you had all of this figured out…without my knowledge…or approval…I do _too_ can cook…How dare you insult my cooking!...Rachel told you that?...Fine, cook whatever you want, see if I care…Oh, sure, come on up here to Brooklyn, celebrate Thanksgiving with us, it's not like we have a life or anything…sure…"

Rachel hears Santana make a strangled cry deep in her throat, an indication that she is annoyed yet unable to do anything about something. Rachel cannot help but smile. Santana and Quinn speak some more before Santana sighs and puts the phone down. She stares at the phone for a while before she turns to Rachel, a thoughtful look on her face. She sighs. "Well…" Santana ventures. But before she can continue, the phone rings again and she answers it.

She listens, then rolls her eyes. "Hi, Mami," she says. Rachel half-smirks in spite of herself. "I'm sorry I haven't called…Yes, Mami, I've been busy…I said I was sorry….no, Mami, I'm not using a _tone_ with you…this is my natural voice…you know that…no, I'm not being a smart ass, Mami."

Santana rests her forehead on the wall beside the wall phone. Rachel smiles. She can guess what they are talking about, as their phone conversations usually are like this.

"Yes, Mami, I'm sorry we haven't been home much," Santana says now, pausing now and then and listening to her mother before answering. "Yes, Mami, Suzie's fine… Rachel's fine, too…Well, why are you asking me this if you just talked to her last night? I'm sorry…Yes, Mami, I know…she's kind of upset now…yes, I know…it's my fault…I should've called…yes, Mami, that's _exactly_ what I'm trying to do…I'm trying to apologize now…Well how can I do that if I'm on the phone with you and you keep going on and on about it?!"

Rachel now gets up and gathers her cup from the table and puts it in the kitchen sink. She puts the eggs on a plate and puts it on the table, near Santana's coffee. She proceeds to wash the dishes.

"Yes, Mami…Thanksgiving? Yes, Quinn just called. But…_why_? I was hoping I could have a quiet holiday with my family…and since when do you like Thanksgiving?..." Santana asks into the phone. "Alright, alright. Fine. I don't see the point though…Yeah, she's here…she's doing the dishes though…you want to talk to her? Oh, okay…Yes, it would seem that _everyone_ knows… Love you, too, Mami. Yes, I'll tell them."

She hears another sigh from Santana as she puts the phone back in its cradle. She sees Santana look down on the floor, then put her arms on her hips, arms akimbo, still thinking.

Shortly after, Suzie bounds into the room and announces, "Hey mom! Mee! Kate called. Finally! She wants me to come over. Can I go? It's near the school…and…"

"Yes, yes, sure," Santana says, looking at Rachel for confirmation, who nods her approval. "But home before seven, you have school tomorrow. I'll drive you."

Suzie claps her hands in delight and skips back out, calling out, "Okay! I'll go get changed…but I don't know what to wear…what to wear…what to wear…"

Rachel rolls her eyes as Suzie's voice fades away and disappears as she goes into her room.

The phone rings again and Santana says, "What is _up_ with people today?"

When she answers the phone and waits for the other person on the line to answer, she pauses, sighs and says, "Oh hey, Kurt. What's up? Yeah, I'm good. Still gaying it up in Manhattan? Yeah? Great…Rachel…?"

She turns to look at Rachel, who quickly shakes her head. Santana looks at her, puzzled, before she turns back to the phone and says, "She's out right now. Can I take a message? No. Okay, see you. Bye."

"What was _that_ all about?" Santana asks Rachel when she puts the phone back. "Something going on between you, too?"

Rachel shrugs, not offering any answer. Santana does not ask further questions. She knows better than to do so. She has always steered clear of whatever is going on between the two and has once jokingly told Rachel that she can only handle one diva at a time. And Santana has always made it clear she prefers her Jewish diva to the annoying one staying in Manhattan.

Santana makes to approach Rachel as she finishes up with the dishes and dries her hands on a dish towel, but the phone rings again.

"Seriously?" Santana asks as she goes to answer the phone.

When she answers the phone, the expression on her face changes, her voice, her tone shift, becomes more formal, as she clears her throat and says, "Oh, hey, Mr. Berry. How are you?...Yes, we're doing good…Rachel…?"

She turns to Rachel, raises her brows, and Rachel resolutely shakes her head, and puts up her hands to vigorously indicate that she is not supposed to be there.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, you kind of just missed her," Santana says, putting on her dejected, sympathetic voice. "I know, right? She's been very busy lately. I hardly ever get to see her myself."

Rachel rolls her eyes, knowing Santana is using the voice she usually uses for parents and clients. The voice she uses for Rachel's parents, really.

"Oh, really?" Santana says now, looking at Rachel with a mixture of curiosity mixed with wonder. Rachel looks down as Santana says, "_Did_ she now?...Yes, I'll make sure to tell her Mr. Berry. You take care now. You, too. Thanks."

Santana puts the phone back on its cradle and looks at Rachel.

"Mr. Berry wants you to call him," Santana declares. "He's also wondering why you haven't returned any of his calls or haven't called them in a while. And are you going home for Thanksgiving? Christmas?"

Rachel nods in acknowledgement. Santana tentatively approaches a few steps and asks, "Are you guys okay? Is there something wrong?"

Rachel shakes her head. As with the phone call with Kurt, Santana does not ask any further questions. She can guess though that Rachel is probably too upset to accept any phone calls from anyone.

For a moment, neither speaks.

Then Santana looks at Rachel and says, in all seriousness, "Baby, what can I say but…" and here she pauses ever so dramatically for a few heartbeats that Rachel finds herself leaning over and waiting for what she will say next, "…Sorry….is all that I can say…"

Rachel looks at her, knitting her brows, wondering…

Santana takes a step forward and continues, in a conversational tone, "Years gone by and still…" Rachel looks at her suspiciously… "Words don't come easily…Like sorry, like sorry…"

"Isn't that a song?" Rachel wonders now.

And Santana takes another step forward, takes hold of Rachel's hands, entwines her fingers with Rachel's and says, "Forgive me, is all that I can say…Years gone by and still…words don't come easily…like I love you, I love you…"

Rachel rolls her eyes, as Santana looks at her, and starts to sing the rest of the song,

"_But you can say baby…__  
__Baby can I hold you tonight__  
__Maybe if I told you the right words__  
__At the right time, you'd be mine…"_

Santana is smiling now as she engulfs Rachel in a hug. "I'm sorry, okay? Don't be mad, now," Santana murmurs into Rachel's ear. "I'm sorry about last night. And no, it's not a hickie, somebody kind of accidentally hit me on the neck last night…I was kind of doing my Lima Heights Adjacent thing…and I kind of realized that only works when it's high school and someone's holding me back…and I kind of landed on somebody who actually smelled like a baby prostitute…and…that wasn't my blood…it was somebody else's…I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have done that. It was stupid of me. I was wrong. I will totally call you next time I stay out late, okay? But you know I can totally take care of myself, right? I won't do it again. And even if I do, I will try to call, so you won't worry."

"I was so _worried_ about you," Rachel says now. "And…did you just say you won't do it again and even if you do you will _try_ to call?"

"My god, you are such a _wife_," Santana teases her now. "This is turning into a real marriage and every…_Ow_," Santana says now and laughs when she feels Rachel pinch her waist. "Baby, you know I'll always come home to you. _Always_."

Rachel can feel Santana's hands on her back, feels their warmth spread through the small of her back. She buries her face into the crook of Rachel's neck and it is so loving and intimate that Rachel feels her heart expand, feels the love flow through her and into Santana. She has her arm around Santana and she pulls her even closer for a tighter embrace.

They stand in their kitchen, silent, enjoying the moment, enjoying this quiet moment with each other, the autumn afternoon sunlight streaming through their kitchen window.

Suzie comes in, all dressed up in jeans and a blouse and the moment is broken.

They reluctantly break away from each other and smile.

"I'm still upset at you," Rachel whispers, but Santana only grins, because she knows Rachel is not really upset anymore. She can never stay mad at Santana long.

* * *

After they drop Suzie off, Rachel and Santana stay inside the car, wondering what to do, letting the engine idle for a while, before Santana says, "Okay, that's it, I'm teaching you how to drive."

Santana drives them to an empty lot she spies just near the school with a wide enough space for them to drive around. Santana first lectures her on the car, a bright red Honda hybrid car with tinted windows that Santana proudly says is a fuel-efficient car that uses both gas and electricity. She then gives Rachel a rundown on the panel of instruments of the steering wheel, the dashboard, the pedals and the gear shift. She gets so overwhelmed she turns to Santana and says, "This is all Greek to me, honey."

"I figured as much, and I seriously doubt your ability to operate heavy machinery, but there's always a first time for everything!" Santana says with a grin.

When they switch places and Santana is in the passenger seat, securely in place with her seatbelt, Rachel feels nervous, feels her heart beating fast as she tries what Santana has instructed her to do. Santana is holding on to the gear shift and as she tells Rachel to lightly step on the gas.

The car angrily jolts forward and she and Santana feel themselves being rocked forward with the motion of the car.

"I can't do this!" Rachel says now, nervous and panicky and anxious, gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles are turning white. Her knees feel like Jell-O and her hands are clammy.

"Baby, yes, you _can_," Santana says, leaning over and brushing her hand on Rachel's cheek. "I believe in you. You teach in _Brooklyn_, for crissakes! This is supposed to be piece of cake for you compared to Brooklyn!"

"I can't, I can't," Rachel says now over and over again, feeling the surge of panic coming up from her stomach and going up to her chest and her throat.

"Baby, breathe," Santana says now, in a soothing voice. "Breathe. Relax. Take a deep breath."

They are silent for a while, hearing the engine hum and purr as it sits idly beneath them. Outside, a few birds fly around, a breeze rustles through the trees. The lot is empty save for them. Rachel feels Santana pull the emergency brake. As the silence stretches on, Santana kills the engine and sits back, waiting.

Suddenly, Rachel hears Santana singing,

"_Baby, you got a fast car_

_And I want a ticket to go anywhere_

_Maybe we make a deal_

_Maybe together we can get somewhere_

_Anyplace is better_

_Starting from zero got nothing to lose_

_Maybe we'll make something_

_But me myself I got nothing to prove…"_

Santana waits for Rachel to respond.

"That's easy, that's Tracy Chapman, 'Fast Car'," Rachel says now, rolling her eyes. It is a game that they have devised, when they go on long drives, or when they find themselves in traffic: one sings a song and the other tries to guess the artist and title of the song. The catch is the song has to fit with whatever situation they find themselves in at the moment. Tracy Chapman's 'Fast Car' seems fitting at the moment.

Rachel looks at her now and sings,

"_I look at her and have to smile_

_As we go driving for a while_

_Her hair blowing in the open window of my car…"_

Santana is silent as she tries to guess the title and artist of the song, but after a few minutes, she shrugs, throws up her hands and says, "I don't know who sang that song."

Rachel looks at her, like she cannot believe Santana does not know the song. "'Passenger Seat' by Stephen Speaks," she says, with a "duh" in her voice.

"There's no way that's a song," Santana says now. "It sounds like a crappy song!"

"It is _not_," Rachel says indignantly now, forgetting her nervousness and anxiety as she turns to Santana to debate the merits of this particular song.

"Whatever, it sounds like crap," Santana says, holding her hand up. "Now _this_, baby, is a really cool song..." she says as she begins to sing,

"_Who's gonna tell you when_

_It's too late?_

_Who's gonna tell you things _

_Aren't so great? _

_You can't go on_

_Thinking nothing's wrong_

_But now_

_Who's gonna drive you home tonight?..."_

Rachel rolls her eyes now at the song. "Ha-ha, that's such an obvious choice!" she points out now. "'Drive' by The Cars, duh!"

Santana laughs. "Well, at least _you've_ heard of it! That song you just sang is so obscure I'm surprised you've heard of it!"

"My turn," Rachel says, warming up to the game. She leans over and starts singing,

"_I had to escape_

_The city was sticky and cruel_

_Maybe I should have called you first_

_But I was dying to get to you_

_I was dreaming while I drove_

_The long straight road ahead, uh, huh…"_

"That's easy! 'I Drove All Night' by Cyndi Lauper," Santana says triumphantly. "With a cover by Celine Dion. Originally sang by Roy Orbison."

Rachel laughs. "Geek!"

Santana leans over and touches Rachel's nose. "Hey, you're the one who knows obscure songs!"

Rachel grins. Santana grins back. They are quiet for a heartbeat, then Rachel unclasps her seatbelt and leans over, plants a soft kiss on Santana's lips. Santana meets her halfway, tilts her head, reaches out to put her hand on Rachel's cheeks, kisses her softly on the lips. Santana's kisses are tender, loving ministrations and Rachel finally feels like everything is going to be alright. She finds strength in Santana's kisses, and pulls her into her, kisses her more. The kisses become more urgent and frenzied, and moments later, Rachel finds herself on Santana's lap on the passenger seat, straddling her, Santana's hand on one of her thighs, the other on her back, as Rachel kisses her lips, her cheeks, her neck, her chest.

Santana murmurs "I love you" huskily into Rachel's lips and Rachel whispers it back as Santana gathers her into her arms…

* * *

_**Author's end notes:**_

_**Thanks for reading! Again, your kind, thoughtful reviews are welcome and go a long way in encouraging this writer. :-)**_

_**To parker88 – Re: Overly dramatic Suzie, adorable – yes, she is, isn't she? Again, you have to patiently wait for what she does to impress her crush. :) Re: Taft High students banter, hilarious, very entertaining – thanks! It's great what nicotine and caffeine can do to this fan fic writer! Haha! As for way to leave you hanging, re: Santana being so caught up with work – hope this chapter answers that! Many thanks for sticking with this story! :)**_

_**To DragonsWillFly – Again, many thanks for going over this! And yes, as you know, the L-Word and the V-Word are muy importante! Hahaha! Thanks again for the support and constant encouragement and laughter, despite being overworked and underpaid. :) May the bunnies always bless you! :)  
**_

_**Songs for this chapter:**_

_**"Sound of Silence" by Simon and Garfunkel (grateful acknowledgement to my professor who actually did something like what Rachel did to us when I was at uni)**_

_**"Baby Can I Hold You" and "Fast Car" by Tracy Chapman**_

_**"Drive" by the Cars**_

_**"I Drove All Night" by Cyndi Lauper (I prefer this version)**_

_**"Passenger Seat" by Stephen Speaks**_


	10. Auditions: Practice Makes Perfect

_**Author's note: Dear readers! Chapter 10 is up. Happy reading! **_**:-)**

* * *

The next few weeks are busy for Rachel, what with her classes, paperwork (lesson plans, progress reports, consultation forms, doing the occasional faculty minutes), being asked to help out with school activities such as the Halloween Fair and the vigorous, punishing Glee Club practice sessions.

The whole month has been nothing but rehearsals for the Glee Club. Her mantra, when the kids start complaining is, "Practice makes perfect!" She has said this so many times, that Baz had finally stood up and announced, "Yes, yes, Miz B, practice makes perfect…but nobody's perfect…so why practice?!"

She had glared at Baz, stared him down until he sat down, head bowed and of course, they resumed practicing again.

Dubs, her bespectacled emo-looking student with the penchant for skinny jeans, Chuck Taylors and flannel shirts has become her default assistant, helping out with sheet music, paperwork (collecting waivers from the students, signed permission slips from parents for practices, the competitions themselves, taking attendance), taking charge of vocalizations and warm-ups. His ability with the electronic keyboards is growing although it still leaves a bit more to be desired. Gloria helps whenever she can, but as she teaches history and geography, knows little about music, but she has become handy with other things, such as fundraising, helping out with paperwork, and of course, if need be, driving and lending her car for transportation services. Lately though, Gloria has announced to Rachel that she has just found out from her doctor that she is currently undergoing the first stages of menopause. This has thus meant that Rachel will now have to endure many sessions of Gloria's point by point account of the many nights of constant hot flashes and mini-meltdowns, so Rachel is glad that her tasks are limited to the barest minimum.

The club sounds more and more like a group now, as they practice Boyz II Men's "It's So Hard to Say Goodbye to Yesterday" and Etta James' "Oh, Happy Day". The voices blend so well now, with some off-tune notes now and then, but overall, they have learned to listen to each other, and actually can harmonize with each other as smoothly.

Rachel had decided to do away with dance and choreography in the meantime as the students had complained that it was hard to sing, learn so many lyrics and dance at the same time. Rachel had to agree, and sometimes wondered how she, Santana and the other members of _their_ Glee Club had actually managed to balance singing and dancing at the same time. It seemed, at times, that Mr. Schuester paid more attention to the choreography than the actual _singing_.

Santana had teased her about the practices, as Mr. Schuester never required punishing practice sessions with New Directions. "We pretty much ruled that club!" Santana had said, recalling that Mr. Schuester pretty much allowed everyone free reign on what songs to choose and learn, when to practice it and how often to practice it (which depended on everyone's mood really), constantly changing song choices based on whoever was popular (Lady Gaga and Britney Spears because Kurt had once insisted they should pay tribute to pop icons, Madonna because Coach Sue had a weird obsession with Madonna)or which student was lobbying, and not practicing _at all_, even _composing_ songs the night before Nationals, locking down everyone in their hotel rooms whilst he sneaked off to an audition on Broadway. The one time when they had a proper Glee Club adviser in the person of Jesse St. James, who had actually known how to run a Glee Club, everyone, including Mr. Schuester, had shot him and his suggestions _down_. "_Worst_ teacher ever!" Santana had said of Mr. Schuester.

* * *

Rachel is also quite happy with the fact that she has finally secured a better practice room for the Glee Club. It took a while, and many visits to Principal Abrams' office before the principal finally gave in, just to shut Rachel up. The club can now use the auditorium on those days when they need to practice. Sometimes, on those days when it is not too cold, they huddle out on the fields, or by the steps of the school practicing, or on Saturdays, by the gym, with Suzie in tow, practicing for the auditions.

She remembers how the Glee Club members seemed very upset that they were leaving the basement and that it was going to be fumigated. ("We have had to fumigate the basement no thanks to you, Miss Berry," Principal Abrams had told Rachel, who had kept hounding him about the rodents in the basement.)

"But what about Willard and Ben?" the kids had asked then.

"Who are Willard and Ben?" Rachel had asked.

"The rats!" the kids had said, eliciting a shudder from Rachel. "Will the fumimigators fumimigate them?"

"Fumimigators?" Rachel had asked blankly.

"Fumigators, idiot! They _fumigate_! Sorry, Miz B! You know how he is!"

"I'm not sure what's going to happen to…Willard and Ben," Rachel had answered, with a shudder, although in all honesty, she was quite happy to be rid of Willard and Ben and the dank, dusty, musty, smelly basement.

* * *

Rachel has been busy trying to raise funds for the Glee Club and her classes as well, finding a wellspring in her former Broadway directors, stage managers, producers, she has known, and some cast mates, some of whom have stayed on Broadway or have moved on to Hollywood and her agent (who still keeps bothering her, sending her scripts and possible projects and still inviting her for lunch in Manhattan). A few balked, but most had willingly contributed, either in cash or kind, so she was able to get some funding for gas money and snacks for their practice sessions. "It's a way of giving back to the community. And what better way to give back than to give back to Brooklyn?" she would say to her former colleagues over and over again, via text, or email or by phone as she ruthlessly hounded everyone. She was even able to secure some old books and she had gotten a few more PizzaHut gift certificates for the winners of her "Sound of Silence" writing contest. Since a lot of her students had turned out surprisingly well-thought out (though grammatically incorrect) essays, she had decided to spread the prizes around, to encourage them more.

"You're spoiling them too much," Santana had said. "All your motivational tools are external," she had pointed out.

Rachel had insisted that she was not, that once they see the benefits of the classes, then they would find it in themselves to be internally motivated. Santana had been skeptical but had not argued it further.

Principal Abrams had been quite happy that the Glee Club is self-sufficient. If he wondered where Rachel had gotten the funding, he did not let on.

Rachel did ask the students to have their own fund-raising, for the inevitable costumes when they go through eliminations, quarter-, semi- and grand finals and the students had tried as well. She had to approve their fund-raising schemes as well ("No drug money!" she had said, half-jokingly, as she had already told the members, and her classes, for that matter, that in no uncertain terms should they be involved in drugs, or they would have their membership in the club, or their "A"s revoked). The students thus had a garage sale, joined the Halloween fair, with their own booth and had a paper drive, the last one not so successful in some parts of Brooklyn as they were either being chased by dogs or people. The money they earned doing their fund raising was not enough, but could still go a long way and Rachel had wanted them to have that sense of ownership for the club as well, knowing they raised funds for their own club.

Her students, whatever is left of them, have stayed in class, and do try to participate in class discussions wherever possible. They have finished "Catcher in the Rye" and are now discussing "The Golden Compass". The students find the book alternately incomprehensible, too fantastic, fascinating, strange, shocking, scary, subversive, blasphemous, a page-turner. Some have enjoyed it so much they have gone on to books two and three. The ones who are in Glee Club have improved more than the ones in class, as she works with the Glee Club members twice as much as the regular classes. This meant the Glee Club members try to speak or write much more correctly. She sometimes feels guilty about this, but the students in class still show a more marked improvement compared to before.

Anferny is still quiet and is only given to one-word answers, Kareem still thinks everything is racist and complains that all the characters are white, McG prefers little green men to fantastic creatures, Baz prefers the movie, Kenyatta likes the female characters, especially the girl, who is feral, feisty and in full control of herself and her destiny, whilst the others have a smattering of opinion or no opinion at all about the story. Jamal, one of her other Glee Club members, has no opinion at all, and has, on more than one occasion missed passing homework and papers and quizzes, and when she confronted him about it, only shrugged, said, "That's just the way it is" looking at her with his dark, almond-shaped eyes. McG has not been busted for weed possession since he has joined Glee Club, but he still gets detention for getting into fights behind the cafeteria. Jamal and Kareem sometimes join these fights as well.

There are few changes in the school since she came in, there are still cliques, places students need to avoid, places teachers need to avoid, there is trouble sometimes during assembly, a fight or two breaking out after school or before classes, or during classes, but Rachel learns to live with it. Glee Club offers her a respite from all this, an escape, to do something she likes, something she is beginning to _love_, and she wonders how she has not discovered an aptitude for teaching music or even Glee Club advising before now. Although sometimes she cannot help but think that just when she thinks she is getting through the kids, she hears that the kids have gotten into fights or hears what she hears from Jamal and the doubts and fears come rushing back in.

But when she starts having these kinds of doubts and fears, Santana comes to the rescue, reassuring her, encouraging her, even if she herself is too busy with work to offer more than the occasional encouraging note, text, email or hug. Santana is still busy with the case she is working on with Miranda Vanderbilt. They are taking the case to court, asking the court to consider their client's case, consider not deporting her, as if she is deported back to Uganda, she faces the same kind of discrimination, prejudice, possibly violence, even death, whereas if she is allowed to stay in the US, she would have the kind of life she is meant to have, the kind of life she deserves. Santana does not say much about the case except for the bare facts but Rachel can see how much she loves doing this kind of work.

* * *

Meanwhile, since Suzie has opened up about her crush on Kate, and since the great "I-called-Kate-and-she-said-come-on-over-and-we'll-hang-out" of that Saturday, Suzie has been going around, walking like she is on cloud nine with a silly grin on her face and a new spring in her step. She has announced during one dinner that she has found a way to impress Kate, but that like everyone else, Rachel and Santana would have to wait to see it during their Christmas program at school.

She is so happy, in fact, that the required meetings with the great and evil Mrs. Sheridan of Green Avenue Academy has stopped, except for the occasional call, as when Suzie had once kicked a boy in the nuts for pulling out her chair when she was about to sit on it. Aside from that, Suzie has been very behaved.

Rachel attributes this to the agreement that Santana and Suzie had, in which Santana had bought Suzie a hamster to placate her for not being allowed to have a puppy in the apartment. Suzie had still insisted on the puppy despite the many arguments Santana had come up with (it is too much responsibility, takes up too much time, it is not allowed in the building), reminding Rachel, once again, where Suzie gets her argumentative skills from. The persistency and determination, Santana has pointed out, definitely comes from Rachel, along with her diva fits. Santana had finally successfully negotiated a deal with Suzie: they will buy a plant first. If the plant survives after a month, then Suzie can get a small pet. If the small pet survives, then _maybe_ they can start thinking of getting a bigger pet. Suzie had cleverly chosen a small cactus, which, of course, survived a month. So she, Santana and Rachel trooped to the pet store to choose a suitable pet for her and she had chosen a hamster. Suzie had said she liked the hamster, "It reminds me of Uncle Kurt," claiming the hamster looked all pale and white and furry and cute ("Just like Uncle Kurt and his fur coats!") and so, of course, to Rachel's dismay, she had named the hamster Kurt. No amount of cajoling, begging or arguing would dissuade the girl to change Kurt's name. "It's perfect!" Suzie had declared, whilst Santana smirked in the background.

Suzie seems to not mind not having the puppy anymore these days. In fact, she uses Kurt as an excuse to invite Kate over, who has become a quasi-regular fixture in their household. Suzie enjoys Kurt the hamster and can entertain herself for hours just watching it in his wheel. Once, Rachel saw Suzie watching the hamster run around in his wheel a bit faster than usual and wondered what was wrong, until she realized the water bottle did not look clear as it usually did, but instead had some dark brown liquid in it. When prodded as to what the dark brown liquid was, Suzie had proudly said it was brewed coffee and Rachel had looked in horror at the child, then the hamster, feeling sorry for the animal as it went around and around its wheel and its cage, all hopped up on caffeine.

"Hey, Mee!" Suzie had said then, "Kurt on coffee kind of reminds me of you when you're being perky and stuff."

Rachel had knitted her eyebrows then, about to deny this, but Santana had come up from behind and said, "It's true."

When Rachel had turned around and glared at her Santana had quickly said, "But I guess that's a good thing, right?" before backing away and dodging whatever retort Rachel has to say.

* * *

Presently, Rachel races down the hallways of Taft High, book bag, laptop, sheet music, clipboard on hand. She has just come from Principal Abrams office, has just submitted the waivers and permission slips for the students joining the choir competitions. She would have given them earlier, but the students have, predictably, submitted the waivers and slips to her at the last minute, and she wanted to get everything in order before submitting to the principal.

It is a few days before Thanksgiving and she is glad there will be the long holiday weekend. She has double-checked that her classes are all sorted, lessons turned over to the substitute teachers, last-minute instructions given so as to optimize class time with the students.

Her phone buzzes and she sees a note from Suzie, "Good luck, Mee! Love you!" She now receives a text from Santana, "Big day today, babe! Good luck! Love you!"

She grins and types a hasty reply to both as she rushes down the hallway. She hears a voice calling her name and she turns and sees Principal Abrams running after her.

"Miss Berry," Principal Abrams says, as he nears her. He is wheezing and is out of breath, and he leans on his knees trying to catch his breath, holds up his hand as if to say "one moment, please."

Rachel waits as he huffs and puffs, watching the light from the fluorescent overhead glint on the shining bald spots on his head that is not covered by the hair combed over from the side. When he does catch his breath, he says, "Miss Berry, I forgot to mention that I'll need a copy of your reading lists, for your classes. And maybe when you have time, maybe we can sit down and talk about your approaches, methods, techniques in teaching. Do you follow the Waldorf method? The Montessori method? What?"

"Reading lists?" Rachel asks innocently. "Waldorf? Montessori?"

"Yes."

"I already gave you a copy of that," Rachel says patiently.

"No, the _real_ one," Principal Abrams says. "I think you're doing a fine job, Miss Berry. Your students seem to be performing beyond expectations, which is saying a lot as you are teaching average to below average students. And you've turned a bunch of troublemaking hooligans into a passable choir. I'm curious as to what you are doing right…maybe the other teachers can learn from you."

"Errr..." Rachel stammers. "I don't know about that. I'm sure the other teachers don't need my help and are doing really well."

"That's the thing, Miss Berry, you've seem to have done more for these kids than all the others combined!" Principal Abrams, puzzled and surprised. "I mean, I hesitated at first, hiring you. I find overly idealistic, privileged, sheltered, middle and upper class young teachers positively nauseating in their unrealistic expectations when it comes to teaching here in Brooklyn…but for some strange reason you have turned your classes around! I want to know what your secret is."

"Uh, really, I'm not doing anything the other teachers aren't already doing," Rachel says.

"Well, you're definitely doing something right," Principal Abrams says, thoughtfully, looking at Rachel. "And you're using the same curriculum and textbooks as the others…that's even more perplexing…I'd love to observe your classes one of these days."

Here Rachel resists the urge to blush. She feels like Suzie being caught trying to steal cookies from the cookie jar. Rachel knows full well she has veered slightly from the curriculum and the textbooks provided for her classes.

She opts to divert his attention by saying, "I'd like to thank you for giving us another practice room by the way."

"Yes, yes, it is not a huge deal, really," Principal Abrams says. "I trust you are enjoying the use of the auditorium?"

"Yes we are actually," Rachel says.

Presently and thankfully, Mr. Smith materializes out of nowhere. "Miss Berry! So there you are! Our resident model educator!"

Rachel rolls her eyes as Principal Abrams, oblivious, says, "Yes, yes, so if you could just sit down with me one time, when you're free and if we could just talk about your reading lists and teaching methods and techniques and approaches in class, that would be swell!"

"Okay," Rachel says.

"Ah, yes, Miss Berry is an awesome teacher, isn't she?" Mr. Smith now says, putting an arm on Rachel.

"She _is_, isn't she?" Principal Abrams says.

Rachel secretly makes a face as she feels Mr. Smith's arm on her shoulder. "She's one of the best teachers I know. She believes the children are our future. She believes if we teach them well and let them lead the way, let them show all the beauty they possess inside, give them a sense of pride, to make it easier," Mr. Smith says, face all serious, tone conversational, "She lets the children's laughter remind us how we used to be…"

Rachel looks at him, frowning, "Isn't that a song?"

"It is?" Mr. Smith says in a mock, sarcastic tone, that seems to be intended more for Principal Abrams than her. "Hmmm…fascinating…"

"Yes, yes, she does teach them well doesn't she?" Principal Abrams says. "Anyway, I shan't keep you long. Good luck! I look forward to talking to you soon!"

With that Principal Abrams turns around and walks back to his office.

Rachel turns to Mr. Smith and proving, once again, how much Santana is rubbing off on her, she says, "Touch me again and _die._"

Mr. Smith does not doubt Rachel's stern threat, and removes his arm from her shoulder immediately. There is something almost comical about a diminutive teacher threatening Mr. Smith, but he knows better than to push his luck too much with Rachel.

"Sorry," Mr. Smith mutters. "Just came to announce that The Enterprise is outside, awaiting your instructions."

"The Enterprise?" Rachel asks, wondering.

"My chariot of love."

"What?"

"He means his old, beat-up van," Gloria says from behind, coming up to the two of them with her handbag in tow.

"Hey, Gloria."

"Rachel. Mr. Smith," Gloria says, nodding to both. She turns to Rachel, "Are you ready? Got your learner's permit?"

Rachel nods.

* * *

Rachel is, in all honesty, nervous for a number of reasons, the auditions, the driving, and worrying that something will go wrong. "Something always goes wrong! I mean, look at New Directions!" she complained to Santana the night before as they lay in bed. She had listed, one by one what could go wrong, including the fact that they have no costumes, or any choreography. Rachel could not sleep, and of course, that meant she kept Santana awake, too. "Baby," Santana had said, patiently, as she held Rachel to her, "Your Glee Club is nothing like New Directions! You've overprepared these kids to death! You've rehearsed them til they can no longer rehearse! You've made them sing like there is no tomorrow! I think no one is as ever ready as your club!"

Rachel could not argue that.

The other reason why she is nervous, of course, is the driving part. They could not, despite her many efforts, secure a school bus for the ride to the convention hall where the auditions are being held, which is in the city. This thus meant securing private vehicles for the said occasion. Gloria had offered her small Prius which could fit, at best, her and four small students. That meant getting another private vehicle. Their car was out, as it is a small SUV type of vehicle that would not fit the rest of the kids. Mr. Smith thus volunteered his old Volkswagen van, the van that putters and explodes exhaust fumes just before it stops in front of the school every morning, startling students and teachers alike. Mr. Smith could not, of course, come to the audition, so Rachel is stuck with driving it. She has checked the car and to her disappointment, has seen that it had manual transmission. Though Santana has taught her the rudiments of manual transmission, this has made her even more nervous. She has not been driving, actually, and has continued to take the train and cabs to and from work. She is actually quite happy with it, but she has no choice now.

She wishes she has forgotten her learner's permit, but Rachel being Rachel, she has it in her purse, along with other pertinent documents. She is quite proud of her learner's permit, actually. She got it from the DMV without actually taking the test, arguing with the tired African American woman behind the desk about the semantics of the test, arguing that some of the questions did not make sense, for about half an hour before the woman finally shoves a permit to her and says, "Please leave."

* * *

"Well, good luck!" Mr. Smith says, breaking through her thoughts. "Don't go chasing waterfalls!"

"Your mouth is moving, but half of the time, I seriously do not understand half of the words that are coming out of your mouth," Rachel says.

Mr. Smith smiles as he tosses her the van keys. He then gives her the thumbs' up sign before going back to his class.

Rachel looks at Gloria before they both leave the building.

"How are you doing?" Gloria asks.

"Honestly?" Rachel asks. "I feel like I'm holding a hot cup of coffee and I'm about to sneeze. How are you?"

"The hot flashes continue unabated," Gloria reports, "But they're under control. The sex though is a bit painful."

Rachel winces. _Gross_, she thinks to herself.

"Good to know," Rachel says now. "Shall we?"

Gloria nods as they both head towards the entrance of the school.

* * *

"Hey Miz B! Mrs. G! Howyadoing?"

"What's happenin' Miz B?"

"Master!" "Cap'n!" "Sir!"

"What up, Miz B!"

"Miz B in the house! Woohoo!"

"_Morning everyone. I trust everyone is ready?"_

"I was born ready!"

"Ready as can be!"

"_Okay. Good. I'm passing out…"_

"Miz B's passing out! Give her some room!"

"Stop crowding her! Give her some air!"

"…_Last minute instructions, reminders about your singing. It's color coded, so you know which one is yours."_

"I don't need these, Miz B. I gotta pornographic memory!"

"_Pornographic memory?"_

"Negro, if you so smart and you gotta pornographic memory, how come you with the slows , man?"

"He means photographic memory!"

"_Ah. Where's Ruth?"_

"She ain't coming Miz B!"

"_What? Why?"_

"Dunno."

_Oh, shit._ _"But we're one member short. We need at least twelve members to compete. Minimum."_

"I can sing, Miz B."

"Dubs?!"

* * *

Everyone stares at Dubs as Rachel decides whether to allow him into the club or not.

Rachel looks at him now, in his trademark skinny jeans, Chuck Taylors, and flannel shirt, and says, "You haven't practiced with us."

"I know all the songs, Miz B. I did the vocalizations. I know all the arrangements," Dubs says now.

Rachel looks at him thoughtfully.

The others kids look at him and say, one by one, "Okay, but you gotta audition for us!" "Yeah!" "Totally!"

Dubs shrugs. "That seems fair."

Dubs steps back, and announces, "This song is 'Jeremy' from Pearl Jam's seminal album, 'Ten'."

"_At home, drawing pictures_

_Of mountain tops_

_With him on top_

_Lemon yellow sun  
_

_Arms raised in a V  
_

_Dead lay in pools of maroon below…"_

Everyone listens to him and is pleasantly surprised. Dubs is quiet most of the time during rehearsals, struggling with the keyboards whenever Rachel asks him for a note. He is no trouble, and like Anferny, can be quiet. His voice now, though cracked and a bit rough, sounds good, deep, kind of like Puck's voice in high school.

Finally, Kenyatta says, "Wow. I totally think you better off singing than playing the keyboards. You play the keyboards like you have sausages taped to your fingers."

As Rachel wonders what playing with sausages taped to your fingers mean, Dubs shrugs and says, "That's okay."

"Fine. Dubs is the twelfth member. Boys, brief him on what you guys are going to do. All of you, get in the van, _now_," Rachel says.

"Alright, alright, Miz B, so _bossy_," Baz complains, and then quickly heads for the van before Rachel scolds him.

Rachel and the students, led by Baz, Kareem, McG, Anferny, Kenyatta, Hannah, Maya, Jamal, Dubs follow her to the big van whilst Amy, Isabelle, Abdul follow Gloria. The students get into the van and slide the door close after them whilst Rachel gets into the driver's seat and starts up the van. She already knows this is going to be one long, torturous ride as she slowly and carefully backs out of the parking lot and the students start talking…

* * *

"Space…the final frontier…to boldly go where no man –"

"Human!"

"…No human has gone before…"

"Shut up, McG! And take those stupid goggles off your eyes!"

"Don't they make me look like Levar Burton from Star Trek:The Next Generation?"

"No, it makes you look like the rainbow in Levar Burton's 'The Reading Rainbow'."

"With that hair, more like Uhura!"

"I like it, looks very steam-punk."

"Thanks Dubs!"

"Makes you look like an idiot, honestly."

"A black geek…now there's an oxymoron!"

"I'm surprised you know how to use that word!"

"I'm surprised nobody has tried to whack you yet for being a smartass!"

"Miz B, that car just overtook us!"

"What is that music playing on your iPod?"

"That's from '2001: A Space Odyssey', y'all! That shit is cool!"

"_Everyone, please settle down and keep quiet."_

"Somebody needs to shower…Dubs! You stink!"

"Sorry…spigot broken at home."

"What's a spigot?"

"What's black and tall and has funny hair and don't know what a spigot is?"

"Somebody farted!"

"Gross!" "Eeeeww!"

"I don't think we gonna make it!"

"Miz B, that man biking just overtook us!"

"At this rate, we will get there by Christmas!"

"More like next year!"

"Maybe graduation!"

"If you ever graduate!"

"Oh, snap!"

"Oh, no, she didn't!"

"Shut up!"

"_Everyone! Shut up!"_

"Sorry, Miz B!"

"Miz B, that old man walking just overtook us!"

"Let's play some music!"

"I _am_ playing music!"

"You playing '2001: A Space Odyssey'! That ain't music, that's torture!"

"It's perfect for Miz B's driving though!"

"_You are this close to getting an 'F' in my class, McG."_

"Sorry, Miz B."

"Miz B, you okay? You looking kinda pale…and that's not just because you're the whitest person we've ever met."

"Hey, Mr. S has some CD here already. Let's see what he has. This one says, "Don't Give Up On Us" by David Soul."

"_Don't give up on us, baby_

_Don't make the wrong seem right_

_The future isn't just one night_

_It's written in the moonlight_

_Painted on the stars_

_We can't change ours_

"What _is_ this shit?"

"This is crap!"

"Death by white music! Aaaaah!"

"Change the freaking music!"

_Don't give up on us, baby_

_We're still worth one more try_

_I know we put a last one by_

"Aaaargh, seriously! That's an awful song!"

"Alright, alright! Changing it up now! Oh, hey Miz B, this is perfect for you!"

"_Baby, you got a fast car_

_And I want a ticket to go anywhere_

_Maybe we make a deal_

_Maybe together we can get somewhere…"_

"Genius!" "Awesome!"

"Maybe it should be…slow car!"

"_Yeah, yeah, whatever!"_

"_Anyplace is better_

_Starting from zero got nothing to lose_

_Maybe we'll make something_

_But me myself I got nothing to prove…"_

"Everybody! Sing it with me now, 'Baby you got a fast car…"

"_I hate you guys! Everyone's getting an 'F'!"_

* * *

After much arguing, noise and debating about Rachel's driving, in which Baz finally successfully wrestles the steering wheel away from Rachel, whilst the students alternated between singing Coolio's "I'll See You When You Get There" (changing the lyrics up to "We'll Never Get There" "If We Ever Get There") and chanting over and over again "We won't make it, we, we won't make it!" led by Kenyatta, they find themselves outside the City Convention Center to find that the center is closing for the day, and the auditions have just ended a few seconds ago…

Rachel does not know what to do.

* * *

_**Author's end notes: That's it for this chapter! I hope you enjoyed it as I did have fun writing it (and my beta had fun editing it haha). As always your kind, ever solicitous reviews are welcome and will be much appreciated. Especially since I just realized this is probably going to be longer than 10 chapters as I'd originally planned. It will more realistically be about 15 to 20 chapters (like a complete season of "Glee" the TV show). Your encouraging comments will go a long way in pushing me to write the rest of the story (the complete story is already written in my head, it's the typing and posting part that's hard. Haha!). **_

_**To parker88 – the "Suzie's Steps To Getting the Girl" – hahaha! I like how you did that. :) Santana and Rachel like a married couple – yeah, they're awesome together I think. :) Again, many thanks for your review. Hope you liked this update. And also, I meant to say that I like your avatar. :-)**_

_**To DaPhoenix – Some New Yorkers not meant to drive – hahaha! Thanks for your comment.**_

_**To kutee - thanks so much for your review. Hope all is well with you.**_

_**To KC – thanks for your review as well. Yes, "Passenger Seat" WAS popular during its day.**_

_**To DragonsWillFly – Dragon, thanks as always for the many encouraging emails (you're like some boxing coach egging me on on my side of the ring, darn it! hahaha), and those stories about wands, fangs, and so on. Thanks also for going over this. Couldn't have done it without you.**_

_**Also, also, Glee Season 4 premieres! Gah! I don't think my heart will be able to take it! Gah! ;)  
**_

_**Also, also, it's Star Trek's 46th Anniversary this month! Yay! Live long and prosper everyone! :) **_

_**Songs for this chapter:**_

"_**Jeremy" by Pearl Jam **_

"_**Don't Give Up On Us Baby" by David Soul**_

"_**Fast Car" by Tracy Chapman (reprise)**_

"_**I'll See You When You Get There" by Coolio**_

**_Also, "Greatest Love of All" by Whitney Houston :) _**


	11. Thanksgiving

_**Author's note: Dear readers, the long wait is over! Chapter 11 is up! **_**:)**_** Thanksgiving came early this year. Happy reading! **_**:-)**

* * *

Rachel arrives at home to the sound of the television blasting a loud, noisy anime television show ("Naruto" or "Blood +" she does not know, as she cannot keep up with Suzie's favorite shows) with a lot of explosions and everyone screaming in Japanese. Suzie and her friend, Kate, are in the living room, eyes glued to the television, sitting on the couch, munching junk food and popcorn. Kurt the hamster is beside them in his cage, ignoring the show in favor of running around in his wheel. Rachel is relieved to see that the liquid in Kurt's water bottle is clear, and she has already extracted a grudging promise from Suzie that she would not make Kurt drink coffee again. "Would tea be okay, if I can't give him coffee?" Suzie had asked. When Rachel had frowned and shaken her head no at Suzie, she asked in quick succession if the hamster could drink these instead: "Gatorade? Red Bull? Coke?" Rachel had again shaken her head vehemently at each suggestion. "Well, that's no fun," Suzie had said before giving a reluctant promise not to feed Kurt any suspicious-looking liquid or food. Kate, though, is no help, as she knows Kate also gives Suzie strange ideas. Rachel knows Kate is here because they are supposed to make some science project together that involved ants, dirt and an empty terrarium. Suzie had proudly announced that she had cleverly engineered a scheme so that her partner for the science project is Kate. Rachel is impressed until one day when she had gone to pick up Suzie and had a fortuitous talk with one of the students though whilst waiting for her. She had found out from the student, who was in awe of Suzie, that Suzie had actually forced one of the boys in her class to switch partners with her so she could have Kate as a partner instead. Suzie had done this by having his arm behind his back in a painful twist. Rachel had listened, mortified at yet another of Suzie's antics. Rachel is only glad that Suzie's diabolical schemes of getting closer to the girl have not reached Mrs. Sheridan's ears. She seriously wants to avoid Mrs. Sheridan and her hawk-like nose and widely-spaced apart, judging eyes at all costs. Suzie had been belatedly grounded for that, although, as with everything that involved Suzie, sometimes, Rachel wondered why they even bothered grounding her.

She had repeatedly told Suzie _not_ to use whatever she has learned at self-defense class on her unwilling male classmates (the females seem to have escaped Suzie's naughty ways), and whilst Suzie has said she will not, Rachel knows she has used it on more than one occasion and the boys in her class are just too scared and too embarrassed to report it to the principal. Having Santana egg her on is not helping either.

They both mumble a distracted greeting now to Rachel as she checks in on them in the living room. She leaves them to their show, neither one talking, too engrossed in the show, their ant farm project (consisting of an empty medium-sized square glass container waiting to be filled with ants) lying forgotten on the small glass table in front of them.

Rachel goes up to their room, and finds Santana already inside trying on some clothes in preparation for the fundraising dinner they have at the firm. Santana had picked up Suzie and thus is home earlier than usual. Hip hop and techno music from Santana's iPod are playing on the speakers. If her guess is correct, Santana is listening to Chemical Brothers now.

Rachel leans on the doorway, watching Santana looking at the mirror, preening and twirling, checking whether the dress is suitable or not, head bobbing up and down, body swaying slightly to the music. She had mentioned that the firm's fundraising dinner is tomorrow night. She had wanted Rachel as her date but she had declined, choosing instead to stay at home and get some much needed rest after months of stress from teaching in Brooklyn.

She looks at Santana now, who is wearing a smooth, short, strapless cream dress that clings to all her curves like a second skin. The dress is very high and covers only half of Santana's thighs. Santana's thick, long, dark hair falls in waves around her shoulders and back. She is sexy and hot and never so beautiful as she is now, and Rachel cannot help but smile.

She now thinks she has had enough of watching Santana and says, "Hey."

Santana turns at the noise, a little embarrassed at being caught preening in front of the mirror and says, "Hey, baby. How'd the auditions go?"

Rachel closes the door behind her and instead of answering her question, gestures to Santana's dress and asks, "What is that?"

Santana looks down at her dress. "A dress."

"Says who?"

"Giorgio Armani."

"Since when?"

"Since now."

"It looks like underwear."

"It does _not_."

"You are _so_ not wearing that to your fundraising dinner," Rachel says, taking a step closer.

"Why not?" Santana says, although a small smirk begins to form in the corner of her mouth.

Rachel rolls her eyes. "You _know_ why."

"No, I really don't," Santana says, pretending innocence, as she also takes a step forward to meet Rachel halfway.

"It's too…"

"Sexy?"

"_Revealing_," Rachel supplies. "I can practically see your ovaries from here."

Santana rolls her eyes, pulls her closer. "It's hot."

"It's too…indecent…inappropriate…_lewd_," Rachel adds, as she allows Santana to pull her in. Instinctively, her hands find themselves on Santana's shoulders.

"Worried someone might hit on me?" Santana jokes now.

"I'm worried _everyone_ might hit on you," Rachel says.

"Aaaww, baby, you still find me sexy," Santana says now, smiling. She leans over and plants a light kiss on Rachel's lips. "Don't worry, I only have eyes for you."

Rachel's heart skips a beat at the touch of Santana's lips on hers. She kisses Santana back, lips and tongue and soft breath mingling with Santana's. They stand there, in the middle of their room, late afternoon sunlight bathing them in light and dark as they kiss each other.

When Rachel pulls back from the kiss, she says, "You're still not wearing that, though."

Santana grins. "Fine, fine. So bossy!"

"Funny my students say the same thing of me," Rachel says, sitting back on the bed as she watches Santana take off the dress, standing now in a black bra and black panties, giving Rachel a full, unobstructed view of Santana's flat abs, muscled thighs, and full, round breasts. Rachel resists the urge to grab her and tear off her underwear, knowing there are two minors downstairs watching television.

Santana chuckles now, as she heads for their cabinet, going over some of her other dresses, and looking back now and then to listen and talk to Rachel.

"Speaking of which," Santana says now, "How was your day?"

Rachel shrugs now, as Santana tears off a dress from its hanger and hastily puts it on. Santana now looks at her, royal blue dress on her, eyebrows raised in question. Rachel looks at her, shakes her head no. Santana is disappointed. She tosses the dress to one side, and Rachel frowns. Santana grins at her sheepishly. Santana knows Rachel hates it when she makes such a mess in their room, but like everything else, Rachel has gotten used to it. In fact, she finds some reassuring comfort in the hopelessness of Santana's habits.

"They're evil, all of them!" Rachel says now. "One of them bailed on me! Didn't even give me a head's up! And my students told me I drive like a fetus. They sang songs that pretty much consisted of teasing me about my driving skills! _All_ the way to the city... and back!" She does not miss the small smile that forms on Santana's face.

"It took forever to get to the Convention Center…and my students spent the better part of the trip arguing which was cooler, Star Wars or Star Trek."

"Star Trek, obviously."

Rachel glares at her, so Santana quickly says, "Although obviously that's not the point."

"And then, they argued about which Star Trek movie was the worst," Rachel continues.

"Wrath of Khan, hands down."

"Seriously, San?" Rachel glares at her again.

"Sorry," Santana mutters, as she struggles to keep a straight face whilst changing into the next dress.

"You are such a geek!" Rachel says now.

"I am not a geek!" Santana declares.

"Yes, you are, honey. Give it up," Rachel says matter-of-factly. "You used to call me hobbit and dwarf. Other people usually just call me Shorty, but you, you're the only one I know who'd go out of her way to insult me using words from 'Lord of the Rings'! You used to call Finn an Ent and the boys in school as either Orcs or Uruk-hai. I can still remember how your eyes lit up when I told you I played Galadriel in the Broadway musical version of 'Lord of the Rings'."

"It's an awesome series! And the movies were awesome. And the musical is really good. Plus it's kind of cool that my girlfriend played Galadriel," Santana says a bit defensively. "What's not to like?!"

"See?" Rachel points out. "Geek!"

"Fine, fine," Santana concedes, putting her arms up in surrender. She is wearing a red satin dress that covers her right shoulder only, exposes her left shoulder, reaches to her ankles, and ends in a slit that go up to her right thigh. Rachel finds her stunning in this dress. It reminds her of the dresses Santana used to wear during the proms they used to have in high school. Santana always looks good in red. "You were saying?"

"It was a nightmare," Rachel says, picking up the thread of the conversation that they were having a few minutes ago. She tries not to get distracted by Santana in a red dress. "We almost didn't make it."

"What?" Santana asks, incredulously. She sits beside Rachel now, looking at her intently. "Why?"

Rachel sighs. "Well as you know, I drive like a fetus. And it took a while and the van had a problem with its clutch and whenever I tried to shift from first to second gear, it would make this funny noise, jolt, and move forward again. And the stick shift kept getting stuck and there were a couple of scary moments when I thought it was going to die on me. And then when we got there, we found that the auditions had closed for the day, and that the organizers were already wrapping things up."

Santana looks at her sympathetically, with this soft, understanding look on her face. Rachel feels a bit self-conscious as Santana looks at her and leans over, running a finger on the stray locks of hair in front of Rachel's face, tucking them behind Rachel's ears. "Aaaww, honey, I'm sorry to hear that. What did you do?"

"Well, I had to convince my students _not_ to convince the organizers to let us audition at knife point," Rachel recounts, remembering Baz and Kenyatta enthusiastically hatching the scheme in the van, along with the other students. Jamal had given Baz a switch blade ("Don't worry, Miz B, it ain't gonna cut shit," Baz had reassured her. "We're just going to…scare them up a bit. Rough them up some, you know?") and they had drawn a battle plan on the floor of the van. The more enthusiastic and determined of the students had said they could just whack the organizers and be done with it. Rachel had stared at them in disbelief and horror.

"Then, I had to convince the organizers to let us audition even though we were late and the auditions were already done," Rachel said, recalling how she had summoned all her argumentative and persuasive powers from years of living with Santana, years of being in Broadway and convincing directors and producers she was the right one for the job, and years of NYADA and high school training, in which she had convinced professors, principals, teachers, Mr. Schuester, to give in to whatever she wanted, even though there were other students who were as talented or more so than her. "And when that did not work," she said, pausing, "I kind of told them half of my students were…differently abled and the other half were sick and that one of them only had a few months to live…and stuff...so…they kind of allowed us to audition after that…" Her voice trails off, dies in a whisper, when she says the last part, clearly embarrassed at what she has done.

It was one of the lowest points in her life, Rachel knows this. She has done a lot of sneaky, naughty, low and sometimes truly atrocious things (as when she convinced all the New Directions kids to sing and dance to the very controversial "Push It" without Mr. Schuester's knowledge or consent, or when she had managed to steal Finn away from a very pregnant Quinn, or when she told Finn about Puck being the father of Quinn's baby, forever destroying the careful equilibrium in their club, or that drunken time she had slept with Santana when Santana was still with Brittany) and _this_, lying to organizers about her students, setting a _bad example_ to her students by doing what needs to be done, in whatever way possible, has got to be one of the lowest.

"Well, did you get in or not?" Santana demands now.

Rachel looks at her, bites her lower lip and nods. She waits for Santana's comment.

Santana just stares at her for a moment, then throws back her head and laughs. "That's my girl!" she says, before grabbing Rachel and engulfing her in a hug. "So proud of you."

"Honey, that was totally not the reaction I was gunning for," Rachel says.

"No, but still proud of you," Santana says. "You've come a long way, baby. Wow! I seriously didn't think you'd come this far, but wow, baby! Congrats!"

Rachel feels a smile slowly creeping over her face, because Santana looks at her proudly and adoringly. The player now plays TLC's "I'm a Freak" and Santana smiles and says, "This one's for you, baby!"

Rachel looks at her, sticking out her lower lip in a pout, so Santana smiles again, reaches over to the player, goes over it and plays another song. "Kidding! _This_ one's for you."

Rachel recognizes the song even before the singer starts singing the song…

"_When I first saw you_

_I already knew_

_There was something inside of you_

_Something I thought I would never find_

_Angel of mine…"_

Rachel grins as Santana pulls her up and holds her as Santana sings along to Monica's "Angel of Mine",

"_I look at you looking at me_

_Now I know why they say_

_The best things are free_

_Gonna love you for you are so fine_

_Angel of mine…"_

Then as they come to the chorus, Santana stops singing along, looks at Rachel, leans over and kisses her. Rachel smiles into the kiss and tilts her head, kisses Santana back, swaying to the beat and rhythm of the song.

Rachel thinks it is going to be a great Thanksgiving holiday.

* * *

Rachel wakes up to the pounding sound of a strong bass beat from the stereo next door hammering through their walls. The neighbors like their hip hop and R and B almost as much as Santana likes hers. She blinks once, twice, and her hand flies up to her eyes. She is lying naked on her side, Santana's equally naked body facing hers, Santana's right leg tangled between Rachel's legs, an arm draped possessively on Rachel's hip, a blanket half-covering them. Santana is fast asleep, breathing heavy and deep. In sleep they have instinctively curled into each other. She is so close Rachel can feel her breath against her cheek, can see her long, dark lashes, her smooth cheekbones, her strong jaw. She runs a finger lightly on Santana's cheek, feels at peace, happy, _content_, just being here, with Santana, in a morning like the thousands of other mornings she has spent with Santana Lopez. She does not really mind spending the rest of the mornings of her life waking up to a sleeping Santana Lopez beside her. This certainty gives her an undeniable kind of happiness. Santana is unaware of Rachel's ministrations and Rachel just looks at her, trying to memorize every feature, wanting this moment to last forever.

Rachel wants _every_ moment to last forever.

They had spent the whole night last night making love ("Catch-up sex" Santana calls it, as they have been too busy and too tired the past few weeks to have this kind of time together) and though they have done it for the nth time, hundreds of times, Rachel still finds her intimate moments with Santana amazing, finds the very thought of Santana's lips on her skin stirring a heat deep within her that sends a blush to her face, finds Santana's very touch like a drug, intoxicating, dizzying, overwhelming. She thinks about how her own touch and kisses almost drove Santana crazy and wild with desire almost to the point of madness, their desire for each other assuaged only by plunging deep into each other's very being, rocking into each other, holding on to each other, as the world, the shadows, the night, the darkness melted away...

Looking at Santana now, she finds her as desirable, as beautiful, as hot, as sexy as the first time they had made love those many years ago.

Presently a surprising blast of trumpets and drums explodes from their own living room, jolting Rachel out of her reverie and she knows, just from the beat, that it is unmistakably Gloria Estefan and the Miami Sound Machine's song "Conga":

"_Come on, shake your body baby, do the conga_

_I know you can't control yourself any longer_

_Come on, shake your body baby, do the conga_

_I know you can't control yourself any longer…"_

Rachel wants to believe that this is just a coincidence, that their normally classical music and hip hop loving child is just listening to Latin music for fun, but Rachel knows, with a sinking feeling that this probably means Mrs. Lopez, her "common-law-mother-in-law" as Santana likes to describe her to Rachel, has arrived.

"_Come on, shake your body baby, do the conga_

_I know you can't control yourself any longer_

_Feel the rhythm of the music getting stronger_

_Don't you fight it 'til you tried it, do that conga beat…"_

Santana seems to think so, too, as she stirs, sighs, pulls Rachel closer, inhales her, kisses her on her cheek, groans and mumbles, "Oh, god, is that my…_mom_?"

"I'm afraid so," Rachel answers.

"Oh, god," Santana says, burying her head deeper into Rachel's neck and shoulder. "It's too early for this! This is all your fault."

Rachel laughs a little, cups Santana's face with her hand, runs her thumb on Santana's cheek. "Sorry."

Santana looks up now, looks into Rachel's eyes, and says, "Morning," before planting a kiss on Rachel's lips.

Rachel smiles. "Morning to you, too," she says softly into Santana's lips.

"How did she even find the place? Weren't we supposed to pick her up at the train station?" Santana mumbles now. "Did you remember to lock the door?"

"Your mother, as you know, works in mysterious ways," Rachel says. "And yes, I locked the door."

Santana moves her head close to Rachel, hugs her even tighter. Her voice is muffled as she says, "Maybe if we stay here long enough, she'll go away…"

Rachel laughs. "I highly doubt it."

* * *

Later, they grudgingly come out of their bedroom to the sound of Gloria Estefan's music on the stereo ("Rhythm's Gonna Get You" and "Get On Your Feet"), a rerun of a Spanish telenovela playing on the television (Thalia's "Marimar"), burritos, toast and brewed coffee in the kitchen, and Mrs. Lopez and Suzie in the kitchen, gathered by the table. Mrs. Lopez is having her coffee, Suzie, her milk and cereals.

"Morning mom!" Santana shouts above the din.

"_Mija_, Rachel," Mrs. Lopez shouts back, a quick smile on her face. "_Buenos dias_. How are you?"

"Morning, Mrs. Lopez," Rachel mutters from behind Santana as she grabs two empty cups from their cupboard, heads to the coffee machine, pours coffee for herself and Santana and hands the other cup to Santana.

Santana smiles and thanks her.

"Hey, mom!" presently, Santana shouts at her mom. "I think everyone pretty much knows this is a Hispanic household!"

"What?" Mrs. Lopez asks.

"I think everyone within a ten-mile radius knows this is a Hispanic household!" Santana shouts again, a bit more slowly this time. "I think we can safely turn down the volume on the stereo _and_ the television now!"

The music stops at about the same time she is shouting the last part of her sentence, so that her voice fills the sudden silence and it echoes in the room.

"What's with the loud music anyway?" Santana asks now, sitting beside her mom, cup cradled in her hands.

Mrs. Lopez shrugs her shoulders. "Your neighbors were playing their stereos so loudly," she explains. "I figure two can play at that game!"

Santana chuckles before she leans over and gives her mother a hug. "Welcome to our _casa_, Mami. We've missed you. How'd you find the place?"

"Yes, I've missed all of you, too," Mrs. Lopez says. "I just wish you would all come for a visit sometimes. It gets lonely in Lima without you. And it wasn't that hard to find this place. We lived in Brooklyn before, you forget. I just googled it." She breaks away from the hug to gesture to Rachel to come on over. "You, come on over here and give me a hug, too, you."

"I win the bet, _Abuela_," Suzie says now, between mouthfuls of cereal. "You owe me twenty bucks."

"Bet? What bet?" Rachel asks, looking from one to the other.

Mrs. Lopez shrugs, stays quiet.

"I told _Abuela_ I think you'd get up before ten," Suzie says now. "You usually get up around six or seven, whether it's a school night or not. But you're up late. So I guessed maybe you were _doing_ it."

Rachel and Santana blush simultaneously and furiously as Mrs. Lopez tries to hide her smile.

"I mean, your door was locked," Suzie says now. "And you usually don't lock your door, unless you're…you know…"

The kitchen is quiet as Santana makes to sip her coffee and Rachel does the same. Mrs. Lopez is trying hard not to laugh. Everyone does not seem to know what to say. Suzie, as always, is oblivious. Rachel and Santana had repeatedly given Suzie a lecture on appropriateness of subject matter during adult conversations, and though Suzie understands, it is pretty much a hit and miss with her. Like now.

Santana clears her throat, tries to speak but cannot find any words to say. The silence stretches. Rachel is suddenly glad that Mr. Lopez is away on a medical convention and is thus unable to witness this awkwardness and embarrassment, and that Carlos, Santana's brother, who is also busy with work, would not be on hand to stoke the awkwardness and embarrassment more.

For something to do, Rachel finally comes forward, leans over and hugs Mrs. Lopez, all the while saying, "We've missed you, too, Mrs. Lopez."

There is another awkward silence.

In the silence, a voice from the living room suddenly cries,

"_Daaaaaaaay-o…"_

Rachel stops, pulls back from the hug, tilts her head at the voice and knits her eyebrows, wondering.

"_Daaaay-ay-ay-o…_

"How many times do I have to tell you?" Mrs. Lopez says to Rachel now as the older woman looks at her.

"_Daylight come and me wan' go home…"_

"What?" Rachel asks, distracted by the voice singing in the background.

"_Mami_ is fine," Mrs. Lopez says, "Just call me Mami. Or Mom. Or Mommy. Doesn't matter. Just don't call me Mrs. Lopez. That sounds so formal! You've been with my daughter, what? Ten? Twenty years? It's kind of weird you still call me Mrs. Lopez…"

"_Day, me say day, me say day, me say day_

_Me say day, me say day-ay-ay-o…"_

Rachel does not know how to answer that. Santana only smirks from the table. Rachel glares at her. Santana quickly stares down at her cup of coffee.

"_Daylight come and me wan' go home…__"_

Presently, Mrs. Lopez looks at Santana, Santana looks back at her, they nod, lean over towards each other, foreheads touching, both shouting in unison "Banana Boat Song!" and they both start singing,

"_Work all night on a drink a' rum_

_Daylight come and me wan' go home_

_Stack banana till the mornin' come_

_Daylight come and me wan' go home…"_

As Harry Belafonte's husky, throaty voice emanates from the living room, Mrs. Lopez and Santana suddenly get up, and start dancing and singing to the song, hands up in the air and clapping, hips swaying, shoulders shimmying, feet doing the cha-cha…

"_Come, Mister tally man, tally me banana_

_Daylight come and me wan' go home_

_Come, Mister tally man, tally me banana_

_Daylight come and me wan' go home…"_

Rachel and Suzie look on in surprise, then wonder, then amusement at mother and daughter suddenly dancing around in the kitchen, sunlight catching the smiles on their face. Then Rachel and Suzie look at each other and burst out laughing.

Santana and Mrs. Lopez hear the laughter and pull Suzie and Rachel off of their chairs. Santana takes Rachel in her arms, singing the song as she does the Samba with Rachel, left hand clutching Rachel's right hand, right hand on Rachel's waist, as they dance around the kitchen.

"_Come, Mister tally man, tally me banana_

_Daylight come and me wan' go home_

_Come, Mister tally man, tally me banana_

_Daylight come and me wan' go home…"_

Rachel feels Santana's nearness, feels her body radiating heat, feels the warmth spreading from her hands. Santana gyrates and Rachel blushes. Then Santana throws her out with her left arm, then pulls her back to her, twirling her, before catching her into an embrace, her back to Santana's chest. Rachel laughs, leans back on Santana's chest as they stay this way, Santana's other arm coming around to engulf Rachel in a hug as they continue to dance. Santana's chin rests on Rachel's shoulder as they watch grandmother and granddaughter dance around the kitchen, shaking their shoulders and hips, arms flailing up in the air, in what has come to be called "The Lopez Dance".

Rachel watches as Mrs. Lopez and Suzie dance, feels the warmth of Santana behind her and she smiles.

She thinks this could be the best Thanksgiving ever.

* * *

Rachel can hear the doorbell downstairs ring above the din of voices and pounding music from RockBand being played in their living room. Rachel already knows it must be Kurt, as he had already texted that he was on his way. She runs her hand through her long, dark wavy hair, smooths her blouse and makes for the door.

"Babe! I can't find my phone! Can you check if it's in my bag? It's on the table by the door in the bedroom!" she hears Santana shout by the bottom of the stairs, trying to be heard above the racket of Suzie, Kate, Mercedes and Sam playing RockBand in the living room. She can hear Red Hot Chili Peppers' "Under the Bridge" being sung, with Sam on lead vocals and an assortment of sounds that are meant to be the accompaniment to the song.

"_I don't ever wanna feel_

_Like I did that day_

_Take me to the place I love_

_Take me all the way…_

Santana is none too happy about how big and _noisy_ the crowd at Thanksgiving is ("Why didn't you just invite the whole Glee Club, Mr. and Mrs. Schuester, Coach Sue, Coach Tanaka and Principal Figgins, while you're at it?!" she had sarcastically asked Rachel when she found out Sam and Mercedes were coming, too) but is nonetheless happy to see some old faces. Sam is in town for some IT conference or other, whilst Mercedes is in the city launching her new gospel album. They had both reasoned out that they would not make it in time to Ohio anyway, and had thus invited themselves to Thanksgiving dinner with Rachel and Santana instead. They had found out about the dinner from Quinn. Quinn, on the other hand, had needed a break from her life in Lima. And since her husband and son are away on some long weekend that is only "for the boys", as her husband had described it, she had decided to just come up to Brooklyn instead.

Kate, on the other hand, had just happened to be around as she is working out the logistics of their ant farm science project with Suzie. They have been alternating between hanging out at Kate's place and hanging out at Suzie's place as they work on the project. They have already finished the farm, and Kate is now just waiting for her parents to pick her up. Whilst waiting for them, Kate has enthusiastically joined the RockBand ruckus in the living room.

"Okay!" Rachel now shouts back. "Could you get the door then?" She waits and hears Santana's muffled assent to her request.

It has been a good couple of days, Rachel thinks. Friday, yesterday, was spent with Santana at Brooklyn Botanic Garden, Grand Army Plaza and Coney Island, at Mrs. Lopez and Suzie's insistence. They had grabbed at the chance, as they hardly ever spend time together, alone, or ever go out on dates anymore, ever since Santana and Suzie moved to New York and ever since Santana had that new case and Rachel started teaching in Brooklyn and coaching Brooklyn Beatz. Suzie has also proven to be quite a handful and between picking her up and the random meetings with Mrs. Sheridan and work, they hardly have time for each other anymore. When Kate's mother had offered to car pool for Suzie on those dates when Rachel or Santana could not bring her to school or pick her up, it felt like a thorn had been pulled out of their chest. Rachel was quite happy about being able to go around the Botanic garden just looking at the Kanzan cherry trees with Santana by her side. It is certainly a break from Taft High's big square buildings, cold classrooms, and even colder hallways.

Save for the fundraising dinner, Santana has taken a leave of absence from work to be able to spend time with her family. This makes Rachel happy. Now it is Thanksgiving and Rachel is spending it with the people she loves and friends she has not seen in a while.

Presently, on a table by the door to their bedroom, she spies Santana's Prada shoulder bag. Santana rarely invests in signature brands but a friend from work has given her the bag as a present and so she is obligated to use it at work once in a while. She rummages through the bag, and sees Santana's iPhone wedged between her purse and make-up kit. As she searches through the bag, she sees a few folded brochures and looks through one. Curious, she takes a look at it and sees pictures of children on the cover. She unfolds the brochure and sees that it is a brochure for a private school. She looks at the others and they are brochures for private schools as well. She sees that Santana has encircled the contact numbers and addresses. She wonders briefly why Santana would have brochures like this. Beneath the brochures, she sees a small, black velvet box. She has not seen this box before, and against her better judgment she takes it and opens it and sees diamond earrings in it. At first the glittering earrings do not register in her mind, but when it dawns on her what they are, her heart skips a beat, she catches her breath and then her heart starts to pound hard.

"Babe, is it there?" Santana's voice comes from downstairs. "And babe! Your best gay is here!"

"Yeah. Found your cell!" she calls back. "I'll be right down."

She quickly returns the earrings inside the bag, tries to put it exactly where she found it. She cannot help but fee; excited. Although it is a little early to speculate what the earrings are for, but it has not escaped her attention that next month, she and Santana will be celebrating five years together. Her Santana is not very big on declarations of love, and has a rule against giving jewelry as presents ("It might jinx the relationship," she has told Rachel once). So far, she has stayed true to her rule. That she is going out of her way to give Rachel a gift for their five year anniversary fills Rachel with much happiness and outpouring of love.

* * *

She goes down the hallway, stops at the top of the stairs to see that Santana has already let Kurt in and that they are having a conversation by the hallway near the front door, just between the living room and the kitchen.

"I have a name you know," she hears an annoyed Kurt saying to Santana. This must refer to Santana referring to Kurt as Rachel's "best gay", she notes.

"I'm sure you do," she hears Santana say, "But I keep getting distracted by whatever atrocious clothing you are wearing. What _is_ that? You look like you're wearing curtains…'Doth mother know you weareth her drapes?'"

She moves a bit to get a better view of what is going on and sees that Kurt is giving Santana a dirty look.

"Bedroom is off-limits Hummel, should you feel the need to go up there and help my girlfriend with her make-up or something," Santana warns now. "Living room is that way." She motions to the left, to the general direction of the living room, where presently Suzie comes out, with Kate in tow.

Red Hot Chili Peppers' song has ended and the first strain of Guns and Roses' "Sweet Child of Mine" has started to emanate from the living room.

_"She's got a smile it seems to me_  
_Reminds me of childhood memories_  
_Where everything_  
_Was as fresh as the bright blue sky..."_

"Hey, Uncle Kurt," Suzie greets Kurt now. "Cool. You're wearing curtains, just like the ones Abuela has in their living room."

Rachel can see that Kurt's perfectly moisturized and exfoliated face is trying hard not to be vaguely offended by what Suzie has said. Santana tries hard not to laugh.

Suzie says, "Hey, mom, Kate needs to go now. Her parents are waiting outside."

"Okay," Santana says, nodding, leading Kate to the front door, with Suzie following.

Rachel decides to make her presence known at the top of the stairs, and thus says, "Hey."

Kurt looks up and smiles at her. "Hey," he greets her back.

Rachel smiles back as she descends the stairs.

"Looks like you have a full house," Kurt observes, as he comes up to hug her. "Did we invite the whole neighborhood?"

Rachel laughs. "No, just Mercedes and Sam, and you _know_ that already sounds like a whole neighborhood. And Quinn, being an adult, has decided to help in the kitchen."

Kurt grins. Santana and Suzie return from seeing Kate off and Suzie, upon seeing Rachel, grins and says, "Wow, Mee, you look hot."

Rachel comes over to kiss the top of Suzie's forehead. "Thanks, sweetie."

"Spawn of Satan is right, you do look hot," Kurt says. "So glad you aren't wearing flannel or overalls like Santana used to."

"Hey, I'm right _here_," Santana says, mock hurt in her voice. "And I don't wear flannel."

Rachel grins at her and puts a hand on Santana's arm, rubs it up and down. "I know, honey. I know."

Santana beams, nods and heads to the kitchen, where Mrs. Lopez, and Quinn, who has arrived earlier, is helping Mrs. Lopez with the turkey.

Rachel leads Kurt to the living room and they take their seats as Mercedes enthusiastically waves at both of them, guitar on hand and Sam does his best rock star face at Kurt, whilst Suzie is attempting to eke out a beat from the drums. Santana appears a second later with a tray of a glass of water, a couple of plate of biscuits, and a set of tea cups and a steaming pot of chamomile tea, a couple of beers and glasses of wine. The beer is for Sam, the wine for Mercedes and Rachel, the tea for Kurt.

"_Whoa! Sweet child of mine!" _ Sam sings, trying his best to imitate Axl Rose.

"Why is he wailing like that?" Kurt asks. "Did somebody die?"

Rachel hits him on the arm and says, "Be nice."

"Why Santana, I'm glad you haven't _completely_ forgotten your manners," Kurt tries to say above the noise, as he daintily takes one of the tea cups and pours himself some tea.

"Shut up," Santana says, although there is a slight smile on her lips. "Since you are kind of…_around_…and I promised Rachel I'd be nice to you, I thought I might as well try to be a bit nicer…but you're not helping...So don't push it."

Kurt purses his lips. Rachel rolls her eyes.

* * *

They have dinner shortly after. With Mrs. Lopez at the head of the table, Santana, Rachel, Suzie, Kurt, Mercedes and Sam surrounding her, they have a sumptuous dinner of stuffed turkey, mashed potatoes, with cranberry sauce, squash and pumpkin pie, complete with blueberry cheesecake for dessert.

Once dinner is over and plates, glasses, pots, pans and cutlery put away, the group retire to the living room. Sam is having his beer, Mercedes, Quinn and Mrs. Lopez have their wine, Suzie has her apple juice.

"Ugh, I'm so full!" Mercedes intones now.

"That's because you literally tried to gobble up the whole turkey," Kurt points out. "I mean you literally had to be restrained from consuming all of it!"

"Shut up," Mercedes says.

Sam chuckles but quickly shuts up when Mercedes turns to him and asks, threateningly, "What you laughing up, Trouty?"

"Hey, that's only cool when I say it," Santana says now, coming up to them, wine glass in her hand. "And leave him alone, Wheezy."

"Thanks, Santana," Sam says. "Oh, hey, I found that Batman comic you were looking for, the one where Harley Quinn first appears. It's in my backpack…"

"Not here, Trouty!" Santana mutters, "My girlfriend already thinks I'm a geek. No need to stoke the fire."

"You are a geek," Sam and Rachel, who comes up towards the tail end of their conversation, say at the same time.

Santana rolls her eyes. They look over at Mrs. Lopez, who is busy looking at the karaoke song book. Rachel rests her head on Santana's shoulders, listening to her family and friends as they chat about nothing in particular. Santana's arm instinctively goes around Rachel's.

Rachel has set up the karaoke machine in the living room as they all wait for Mrs. Lopez to choose a song to sing. Mrs. Lopez had announced that it was time to put RockBand away for some actual _real_ music to be played. Everyone had groaned, but had grudgingly and patiently waited as Rachel set up the karaoke for them. Rachel had, of course, secured a karaoke machine just for the occasion. Santana had rolled her eyes then and said, "You and your karaoke machine!" but Rachel had only laughed. She had actually even prepared a program, complete with games, prior to dinner and karaoke, but everyone had protested in favor of just playing RockBand.

The doorbell rings and Santana hastily and apologetically gets up, as she heads to the door. Rachel wonders who it is, as they are not expecting anyone else. As Santana heads to the hallway, Rachel catches her running her hand over her hair, smoothing her blouse and jeans and Rachel briefly wonders why she would do so.

She thinks nothing of it as she waits for Mrs. Lopez to decide on which song to sing. Mrs. Lopez now takes songbook and microphone, punches in the code, presses enter and waits for the song to come on. The title of the song, "Coming Out of the Dark" by Gloria Estefan, comes on.

The first strains of the song start to play and everyone settles down, as Mrs. Lopez starts to sing,

"_Why be afraid if I'm not alone_

_Though life is never easy the rest in unkown_

_Up to now for me it's been hands against stone_

_Spent each and every moment_

_Searching for what to believe…"_

Though Rachel had heard Mrs. Lopez sing a couple of times only, before, she is still surprised at how beautiful her voice is. Her voice is strong, _stunning_, fills the empty space with melody and rhythm. Her voice commands attention. _She_ commands attention. Everyone stops, grows quiet, looks and listens as she sings. Quinn is in awe, Mercedes is amazed and Sam is staring, mouth open, head tilted, mesmerized by Mrs. Lopez's voice as she hits the chorus. Everyone clearly knows where Santana gets her voice from. Thinking of Santana makes Rachel wonder now where Santana is and what is taking her so long.

"_Coming out of the dark, I finally see the light now_

_It's shining on me_

_Coming out of the dark, I know the love that saved me_

_You're sharing with me…"_

Mrs. Lopez starts to hit the high notes and Rachel finds herself lifted up by the song and Mrs. Lopez's incredible voice.

"_Forever, forever I stand on the rock of your love_

_Forever I'll stand on the rock_

_Forever, forever I stand on the rock of your love_

_Love is all it takes, no matter what we face…_"

As Mrs. Lopez finishes the song, everyone begins to clap and Sam does his best wolf whistle.

As everyone claps enthusiastically for Mrs. Lopez, Santana arrives with the new visitor and Santana says, "Everybody, this is Miranda Vanderbilt. I work with her at the firm."

Rachel turns around and finally sees Miranda.

There are polite nods and greetings as Miranda is introduced to everyone.

But the only concrete thought that Rachel can form, amidst a growing dread, mixed with anxiety and something akin to a vague fear, is that Miranda is beautiful. Breathtakingly beautiful.

Miranda is tall and blonde and sexy and reminds Rachel eerily of Brittany S. Pierce. In fact, she might even look a bit like Brittany.

She is also wearing something on her ears, something Rachel has seen earlier in Santana's bag:

She is wearing those diamond earrings…

* * *

_**Author's end notes:**_

_**And there you have it! Thank you so much for reading this chapter. Your kind, exceptional, heartwarming reviews are most welcome and will be, as always, much appreciated. Especially as sometimes it is a struggle to get these chapters up (what with work and all getting in the way!). :)**_

_**To AuthorW – Thank you so much for your kind reviews on all three stories (including this one). It is very much appreciated. :)**_

_**To MelovePezberry – Re: Reading this fic on the strength of Kutee's recommendation – Thank you! (and Kutee, thanks for recommending this fic to MelovePezberry!) Re: Suzie as best kid – hahah! Glad I can make you laugh! RE: Kids in Rachel's Glee club are just so funny – haha! Thanks! I have fun writing them! RE: I wish this was on TV – Aaww, thanks! That means a lot to me. I think it would be fun to see it on TV. But this fic, I think, is too gay and too diverse for TV hahaah! :) Again, thanks for reading!**_

_**To parker88 – RE: Suzie the bad ass – hahaha! RE: Hamster on caffeine – yes! It IS funny! haha! RE: Reading Rainbow – I LOVE the Reading Rainbow! :) RE: Avatar – It's Santana Lopez! What's not to like?! :) Thanks for your review!**_

_**To dayabieberxo – RE: Hoping Santana meets the Taft kids and Mr. Smith – hahah! You'll just have to wait and see. :) Thanks for reading!**_

_**To kutee – RE: The kids are one of the best thing about this fiction – aaaww, thanks! I wanted a fan fic that expanded the original verse and included OC that were as interesting as, and helped with, the growth of the characters from Glee. :) RE: Principal Abrams – hmmm. You just have to wait and see what happens next. :) RE: Mr. Smith – yes, he is a bit of a d*ck, isn't he? :) RE: Suzie – ah, Suzie is still busy hatching schemes, as you can see.**_

_**To DragonsWillFly – Sigh. We've been through a lot, haven't we, Dragon? What with stress and work and floods and wind and rain and cold and sleep deprivation and caffeine and nicotine deprivation and the recent drama that has been no exception! Thank you, once again, for going over this novella with me. It means a lot to me that nothing, not even the rain, can stop you from beta-ing this for me. :) Please always know you are always, always appreciated. Through all that's happened, you've become a friend unlike any other. Thank you.**_

_**You may notice that I have featured Gloria Estefan heavily. That's because though she played Santana's mom, she hadn't actually sang any songs so I wanted to give her the moment/s she so rightfully deserved, because darn it, it's Gloria Estefan! And also, also, because featuring Madonna and Elvis Presley during that ep about Latin American music, would not be considered featuring Latin American music, in **_**any**_** known universe.**_

_**Did anyone, by the way, catch the season premiere of "Glee" Season 4? I find I can appreciate Glee much better when there's some form of liquor within reach. Can't be bothered with Kate Hudson and the 500 other new characters though. **_**;)**_** Also, because Todd VanDerWerff of avclub dot com put it in my head: Terrence Malick should totally write and direct future episodes of "Glee"! Along with David Lynch and Tim Burton.**_

_**Songs featured in this chapter (that of course, you are meant to check out on youtube dot com **_**:)**_**):**_

_**"Angel of Mine" by Monica**_

_**"Conga", "Get On Your Feet" and "Rhythms Gonna Get You" by Gloria Estefan and the Miami Sound Machine**_

_**"Coming Out of The Dark" by Gloria Estefan**_

_**"Banana Boat Song" by Harry Belafonte (because Harry Belafonte and Beetlejuice are awesome!)**_

_**"Under the Bridge" by Red Hot Chili Peppers**_

_**"Sweet Child of Mine" by Guns N Roses**_


	12. Thanksgiving (Part 2)

_**Author's note: Hi everyone! Chapter 12 is up! So many interesting comments and reactions to the previous chapter! Didn't think I'd get that kind of response for that! Thank you for your reviews! Here's part 2 of Thanksgiving. Enjoy!**_

* * *

It is interesting how a Thanksgiving that Rachel had thought would be great is turning out to be the worst Thanksgiving ever.

Rachel suspects that this may be due in part to Miranda Vanderbilt being in her living room right now, holding court like she owns the place, sitting in one of the chairs, hair perfect and straight and blonde, body folded elegantly in the chair, dressed smartly in what seems to be an Armani suit, one long, smooth leg crossed over the other, skirt riding up and exposing equally smooth, endless thighs. Miranda has spent the better part of the hour explaining her work to Mercedes and Kurt, talking about the Amazon rainforest, dolphins, LGBT rights and human rights in general, trying to be heard above the music, chatter and laughter around her. She flips her hair, throws back her head and laughs, answers a question, grins, and Rachel feels like she is shrinking every time. Rachel feels like a woodland creature beside her. Which is why she has decided to sit as far away from her as possible as she watches her, Santana and Mercedes chat. It does not help that Santana seems to be all over her, fawning all over her, running around like a puppy dog refilling her wine glass, offering her hors d'oeuvres, chips and soda.

When Santana had introduced her to Miranda, and Miranda had smiled, intense, sea green eyes looking at her, intoning, "Nice to meet you, Rachel, I've heard so much about you," Rachel could not help but say, "Nice to meet you, too. It's so weird that I haven't heard anything about _you_," Santana had squirmed, stood awkwardly, muttering, "You were kind of busy…"

Presently, Miranda is listening intently to Mercedes as she gives a background of how she, Kurt, Sam, Quinn, Rachel and Santana know each other from Glee Club and high school. Mercedes is this close to grabbing a piece of paper to explain the many permutations of relationships that New Directions has witnessed during their time. Kurt supplies the gaps in Mercedes' stories.

Mrs. Lopez, Sam and Suzie, though seem more particularly interested in karaoke. Mrs. Lopez is holding one microphone, Sam and Suzie share the other, with Sam leaning over so Suzie can sing into the mic as well.

They are presently singing a Spanish version of Jon Secada's "Si Te Vas" ("If You Go," Mrs. Lopez translates, which, Rachel has been given to believe, used to be popular in its day).

"_Si te vas con tu amor_

_Razones de vivir me faltaran_

_Tu sabras que todo lo que quiero eres tu…"_

Sam and Suzie struggle to keep up with Mrs. Lopez and the Spanish lyrics. But Sam, being Sam, has difficulty with Spanish, and Suzie's Spanish is not as good when done this way, but they all have fun and giggle and Mrs. Lopez tells Sam, in the middle of the song, "You're not too bad, for a gringo", to which Sam gamely grins to.

The song ends and Rachel can hear what Miranda, Mercedes, Kurt and Santana are talking about.

Mrs. Lopez, Sam and Suzie continue to be oblivious and instead, make for the songbook to choose another song. Mrs. Lopez is clearly enjoying the singing and she has found groupies in Sam and Suzie. They choose Alicia Key's "If I Ain't Got You" and start singing it. Now they are singing the chorus in Spanish.

"_Soy solo para ti__  
__Y nada me hace feliz__  
__Si no estas tu baby__  
__Si faltas tu baby__  
__No quiero mas vanidad__  
__Si ya, no se nada mas__  
__El mundo esta vacio__  
__Si me faltas tu tu tu…"_

"Okay, let me get this straight," Miranda says now. "Quinn used to go out with this Finn guy? And Rachel had a huge crush on the guy? And Rachel ended up dating him for the rest of high school? And Santana took his _virginity_?"

Miranda looks incredulously at everyone now.

Quinn sits beside Rachel now and says, quietly and matter-of-factly, "Her eyes are too near each other."

Rachel looks at Quinn now, who has absolutely no expression on her face.

"They're so near each other, they seem to be merging into one eye," Quinn continues.

Rachel has a quizzical look on her face.

"Oh, come on, her name's freaking _Vanderbilt_, that's so old money I can practically smell the mustiness from over here," Quinn continues. "Old money like that likes to keep the money in the family. Years of inbreeding might have done that to her eyes. She's like Cyclops or something."

"Quinn, that's mean," Rachel says, resisting the urge to smile. "I've forgotten how mean you can get."

Quinn grins. They are quiet for a moment as they listen to Mrs. Lopez, Sam and Suzie sing. Well, listen to Mrs. Lopez sing and listen to Sam and Suzie warble hopelessly in the background in gibberish that's meant to be Spanish. The lyrics on the screen do not help.

"Her lips are too small and thin," Quinn continues now. "And her face is too long. Kind of reminds me of Celine Dion. Or Sarah Jessica Parker. We could probably saddle her up and put her on the derby and bet on her!"

A slow smile begins to spread on Rachel's face. Never before has she appreciated Quinn's wanton meanness. This is perhaps because she is not the target for the insults.

"She'll probably lose though," Rachel says now.

"That's true," Quinn agrees, dejectedly. "She smells like a baby prostitute!"

Rachel laughs. "That's what I was thinking!"

"And what is that horrid accent?" Quinn asks now. "Is that New England or something? So nasal and hoity toity and _annoying_."

Rachel is trying not to laugh hard. When she sees Santana get up to grab a bottle of wine and refill the glass on Miranda's outstretched hand, Quinn rolls her eyes.

"You know that except for Brittany, Santana isn't really into blondes, right?" Quinn now says, quietly, lightly, eyes serious and searching. "I mean, maybe she reminds you a bit of Brittany, but Brittany was prettier. And there can only be one Brittany. And she's gone now and Santana has you."

Rachel offers a weak smile. She is so relieved to have Quinn there she wants to give her a hug. She instead gives her a grateful smile.

Rachel knows this jealousy, coupled with suspicion, which is slowly creeping into her being, is irrational and uncalled for, she knows that Santana would not cheat on her. And even if she did, she would not make the stupid mistake of being caught like this, but she cannot help but feel it now. She tries to fight it, tries to push it down, but having Santana and Miranda right in front of her like this, makes it even harder. But having Quinn say that, makes it a bit easier for her to get through this night.

"I mean, Santana is into hot Jewish women who are loud and annoying and overbearing," Quinn continues, a grin on her face. "She has a thing for short women with massive noses that occupy most of their face."

_Aaaand she's back_, Rachel thinks to herself as Quinn adds the last part. Just when she thinks people have gone beyond what they were in high school…

But Quinn smiles, places a hand on Rachel's own clammy hands though and just squeezes her hand before she lets go.

"I'm bored," Suzie announces, as she approaches Kurt and Mercedes and Miranda, staring curiously at Miranda. "Let's play 'Monotony'."

" 'Monotony'?" Kurt asks. "What's that? Because if it is what I think it is, honey, only Santana and Rachel would win that game. Maybe."

"Shut _up_," Santana says now.

"Yeah, 'Monotony," Suzie says now. "You know, that game where we buy up land and apartments and stuff, with chips…?"

"Oh, you mean 'Monopoly'," Kurt says. "Honey, we're kind of busy right now. Maybe later?"

"Yeah. Finn Hudson. I don't understand the appeal. At _all_." Mercedes resumes now, a little bit too enthusiastically. "And Sam used to date Quinn. And he used to date Santana, too."

Rachel now wants Mercedes to shut up and is close to regretting inviting her to Thanksgiving.

"Could your club be any more incestuous?" Miranda says now and Mercedes shrugs.

Sam breaks away from singing to say, "But that was so long ago! I'm such a total lesbro to Santana now!"

"Besides, it was a small town," Sam continues, "Santana and Quinn were the hottest piece of action there."

"Can't argue that," Miranda says, looking at Santana now. "You are kind of cool. And you did defend my honor at that club, that one time."

Rachel realizes that was the time when Santana had come home late, drunk and bruised.

"I don't know about you, but I'm _so_ hating this woman now," Quinn comments again.

"And Rachel and Santana are _together _now_?_" Miranda says now, looking around in disbelief.

"Well, Santana works in mysterious ways," Sam says, smirking, as Santana glares at him. He thus resumes singing.

""So Finn turned you guys _gay? _Wow!" Miranda exclaims.

"Well, he didn't really," Sam says again, breaking away from the singing to address Miranda. If Rachel is not mistaken, there is a slight hint of irritation in his voice. "I mean, I think Santana has always been into Rachel."

"I was not!" Santana begins to say now, realizes her mistake, whips around to look at Rachel and says, hesitantly, voice trailing off, "I mean…I didn't…mean it like that…"

"Yeah, you were!" Quinn joins in now, secretly winking at Rachel. "Weren't you always making fun of her? Always trying to attack her? Always finding a way to be close to her?"

"Errr…" Santana says now.

"Oh, yeah!" Sam says, like a light bulb has turned on in his brain. "I mean, you were always teasing her and stuff. Kind of reminded me of kids really. If I didn't know any better, and if I didn't know you were with Brittany at that time, I'd totally think you had some crush on her or something."

"Yeah, you were always going out of your way to _annoy_ her, paying _waaaay_ too much attention to her," Quinn says. "And I always wondered why you always seemed to kind of let her get too much under your skin."

"Now we know," Sam finishes.

Rachel can only half-see Santana's face, but she knows Santana's face is burning. Miranda is smiling. Her smile vaguely reminds Rachel of Mrs. Sheridan's condescending one. Rachel hates Mrs. Sheridan. And so, by extension, she hates Miranda now, too.

Quinn leans over now and whispers, "We can totally take her on, you know. I have duct tape, a spade and a shotgun in my car."

When Rachel looks at her with a stricken, horrified look on her face, Quinn laughs and says, "I'm _kidding_."

Rachel only smiles.

"Or am I?!" Quinn asks now, with a cryptic look on her face that makes the smile on Rachel's face disappear.

"Is there _anyone_ here who hasn't slept with anyone else?!" Miranda asks now, looking around the room.

Rachel and Quinn look at each other, do a double take, then Quinn and Santana look at each other, and they all laugh.

"What's so funny?" Miranda asks now, completely lost.

Santana shakes her head, and says, "Nothing."

When Miranda persists, Santana says, "Well, no one has slept with _Kurt_."

"You mean, no _woman_ has slept with Kurt," Mercedes corrects.

"I'm right _here_," Kurt says. "And you guys forget that's because I'm _gay_."

"I'm bored," Suzie says again.

"Enough of this," Mrs. Lopez interrupts, "I want some singing! Santana, take it away!"

Rachel is relieved that Mrs. Lopez does this.

Santana and Quinn look at each other.

"Should we?" Quinn asks.

"Oh, but we must!"

"But it's been so long!" Quinn says. "Do we dare?"

"For the good times!" Santana says back.

"For old times' sake!"

They grab the songbook and microphone, punch in the song, and wait for the song to play, but after a few minutes, the song does not play, so Santana says, "I guess we're doing this acapella."

She starts singing,

"_The moment I wake up, _

_Before I put on my make-up_

_I say a little prayer for you…"_

Quinn does the second stanza,

"_While combing my hair now_

_And wondering what dress to wear now_

_I say a little prayer for you…"_

Together they sing the chorus,

"_Forever, forever_

_You'll stay in my heart_

_I will love you_

_Forever and ever_

_We never will part_

_Oh how I love you_

_Together, together_

_That's how it must be_

_To live without you_

_Will only bring heartbreak to me…"_

Everyone erupts into applause as they finish singing the song.

Suddenly, Suzie, who has been moving in and out of view the past few minutes, shouts, "Nobody move!"

A silence descends on the group as both Rachel and Santana stand up and move toward her.

"Honey, what's wrong?" Rachel starts to ask, but Suzie shakes her head, gestures for her to stay where she is.

"Kurt is missing," Suzie announces now. "Has anyone seen Kurt?"

Human Kurt, confused, looks at Suzie now and says, "I'm _right_ here."

Suzie rolls her eyes now. "Not _you_, Uncle Kurt. Kurt my hamster!"

As understanding dawns on human Kurt, horror and disbelief descend on his face as well. "You _named_ your _rodent_ after me?"

"A _rodent_?!" Miranda presently says. "I _hate_ rodents."

"Hey, watch it," Suzie says now. "Don't be dissing my rodent. You be hurting his feelings. Hamsters are people, too, you know."

"What about _my_ feelings?" Kurt asks now.

"Sorry," Suzie says now, a little half-heartedly, but she is not really paying attention anymore, as she gets on all fours and starts looking for her hamster.

"Oh, shut up, Hummel and start looking for the hamster!" Santana says now.

Santana comes up to Rachel and asks, "Did Suzie just go ghetto on us?"

Rachel smiles and shrugs. She notices that sometimes Suzie speaks like this. But she believes she only does this sometimes for fun, and is perfectly aware that Suzie aces her English classes and can speak proper English if she is so inclined. She does realize though that Suzie may be spending way too much time with Rachel's kids from Taft High.

"Thousands of dollars on private education and our child is speaking like she's from the projects," Santana says. "Should have just sent her to public school in Brooklyn instead!"

Santana moves away to look for the hamster somewhere else.

Quinn whispers to Rachel now, rolling her eyes, "And she _hates_ rodents! Totally not Santana's type!"

Rachel smiles as she tries to look for the hamster herself.

Everyone tries to look for the hamster, without actually moving from their place, twisting and leaning over and craning their necks to see if they can see a furry little creature around.

"I cannot _believe_ you allowed Santana's spawn to name her hamster after me!" Kurt says haughtily now at Rachel.

"I think it's genius!" Sam says, coming up carefully from behind.

Kurt turns and glares at him.

"Sorry," Sam says.

"Let it go, Kurt, let it go," Rachel says. "Don't be such a baby."

"But she named her rodent after _me_."

"Are you twelve?" Rachel asks now, putting her arms on her hips, arms akimbo, looking at Kurt.

"I really wouldn't want to cross her if I were you," Sam says now, smirking. "I've seen moms. I _have_ a mom. They're scary. And fierce! You're kind of fiercer than Santana!"

Suddenly a scream emanates from one of the chairs, and everyone turns to look at Miranda now, who is off her chair and squirming and twisting around, hands flailing, brushing her hands on her sleeves and the front of her suit and skirt.

All hell breaks loose after, as Santana and Mercedes try to help Miranda, Suzie tries to look for the hamster on Miranda's person, and the others either stand around or attempt to help, but mostly standing around trying hard not to laugh.

"Well," Sam says now. "Guess we know where Kurt the hamster went."

"_Stop_ calling it that!" Kurt snaps.

"Hey, you'll hurt its feelings!" Sam says. "Hamsters are people, too, you know!"

Kurt glares at Sam, but Sam is oblivious.

"Ants! Ants!" Miranda screams now.

"_Aaaand_, we know where most of Suzie's project went to, as well!" Sam says, trying to laugh quietly, but coming out with a half-chuckle, half-wheezing sound instead.

"For a tall lady, she sure is nimble on her feet," Sam observes, as they all watch Miranda jump around, taking off her jacket and trying to brush away the ants.

A white, furry, creature jumps out of Miranda's blouse and, Sam says, "Aaaand we have a jumper!" before he stretches out his large hands to catch the hamster in his grip.

"Hey, Suz! Found Kurt!" Sam says now, raising his hands in the air.

Suzie looks at him with relief and delight, skips to him to take the hamster from his hands.

"Don't let him out of your sight again, okay? Next time he won't be as lucky," Sam says now, grinning. "Can we start singing again?"

"Sam! Don't be rude!" Quinn says, half-heartedly, gesturing to Miranda still writhing around.

"I think it's totally cool. We can start singing 'Ben'," Sam says now. "But…that's not about hamsters."

"Yes, that was about rats," Quinn concedes.

"Hey, wasn't that Kurt's song for Blaine that one time Blaine got some rock salt in his eye?" Sam says now, turning to Kurt. "Blaine told me."

Kurt ignores him.

"Ben, you're always running here and there," Sam sings now, punctuated by Miranda's scream.

"I'm ignoring you now," Kurt says.

"I just realized there aren't any songs about hamsters," Sam says. "Or ants. So bummed by that."

"What's happening? I don't hear any singing, we should start singing now," Mrs. Lopez says, coming up to them and pointedly ignoring Miranda.

"Mrs. Lopez!" Quinn says, shocked, as Sam chuckles behind.

Mrs. Lopez looks at them, pretending not to know what is happening.

Rachel loves her friends and Mrs. Lopez now more than ever.

"Thanks Uncle Sam!" Suzie presently says, affectionately running a thumb on the hamster's back. The hamster seems terrified and is twitching and nervous in her hands.

"You didn't feed him coffee again, did you?" Rachel says suspiciously.

"No," Suzie says.

"Take Kurt to its cage and start getting ready for bed," Rachel says now.

Suzie sighs. "Okay."

As they leave the commotion of the living room for the silence of the hallway and Suzie's bedroom, Rachel tells her now, "You know that was a very bad, _bad_ thing to do right?"

"What?" Suzie asks now, innocently, looking up at Rachel.

"You _never_ let Kurt out of your sight," Rachel points out.

Suzie shrugs her shoulders. "He escaped."

"That's why we bought that extra strength lock, remember?" Rachel reminds her. "Weren't you the one who insisted we _had_ to make sure he couldn't escape, because there were bad people out there?"

Suzie shrugs again. "I don't know what happened," she says innocently now. "He's very clever, Kurt my hamster. He really is."

Rachel sighs. She knows no amount of interrogation will let Suzie admit that she had let Kurt the hamster lose on Miranda on purpose.

"And I don't remember that small glass case out in the living room earlier today," Rachel says casually. "I distinctly remember you and Kate putting your science project in your room because you were afraid people might trip on it and ruin your project."

"Uh-uh," Suzie says now, shaking her head. "I kind of brought it out again because Uncle Sam and Aunt Quinn wanted to have a look-see at our ant farm."

"Ah," Rachel says, unconvinced. How Suzie managed to sneak in her hamster and her science project without her or anyone else noticing is beyond her. "And how, pray tell, will you go about fixing your science project? It's due next week."

Suzie sighs dramatically now, seemingly unconcerned. "Well, I guess Kate just has to come over again and help me collect ants. It happens, Mee."

Rachel should have known, of course, that Suzie had some ulterior motive, which involved Kate and some ants.

"I mean, it's like what Baz told me," Suzie says now. "You can't get back on the horse unless you fall off."

Rachel looks at her quizzically. She probably needs to stop having Suzie hang out with her Taft kids.

"What does that even _mean_?" Rachel asks her now.

"I don't know, but it seemed to make sense when he was telling me," Suzie says.

"You know you're grounded, right?" Rachel says now.

"How come?" Suzie asks now. "What for?"

"For _that_," Rachel says, gesturing to the living room.

There is a small twitch of a smile on the side of Suzie's lips that is so vaguely mischievous and so Santana that Rachel is convinced she had let her hamster and ant on the loose on purpose. "You can't prove anything, Mee," Suzie says now.

"Go…brush your teeth, and go to bed," Rachel says now, sighing again. There are disadvantages to having a child whose mother is a lawyer. Like right now.

"Okay, Mee," Suzie says. Before she heads to her bedroom, she stops by her doorway, turns around, hamster cupped on her hand and says, "Mee?"

Rachel turns around, raises her eyebrows and says, "Yes?"

"You know I'm team Rachel all the way, right, Mee?" Suzie asks.

Rachel grins. "I know, honey."

"_All_ the way, Mee," Suzie says. "_All_ the way. Nobody be getting in the way of my mom and my Mee."

Rachel smiles at her now. She probably _really_ needs to stop letting Suzie hang out with her kids. "Go to bed, you naughty, naughty little girl."

Suzie grins before she disappears to her room.

A few hours later, in which Miranda leaves in a huff with ants still crawling up her clothes, leaving the others free to laugh whilst Santana took Miranda to her car outside, Mrs. Lopez, Quinn, Mercedes, Kurt and Sam stay around a bit more to chat before deciding to call it a night. Mrs. Lopez stays in the guest room and Quinn sleeps on the couch, whilst Sam drives Mercedes and Kurt to the city.

After finishing her very long, night-time regimen in the bathroom, Rachel emerges in pajamas to see that the light in their bedroom has been turned off and Santana is beneath the covers, blanket just above her waist, lying on her left side, facing Rachel's side of the bed. Rachel goes around the bed, guided by the light of the street lights from outside, pulls away the blanket, and slides in to the bed.

As she lies on her side, Santana moans appreciatively and puts her arm on her waist and stomach, pulling Rachel in. She can feel Santana's breath on her neck, her warm hand rubbing circles on her stomach. Santana moves even closer, kisses her on the back of her neck, on her shoulder, as her hand slowly slides down into the waistband of Rachel's pajama pants. Santana's movements are unmistakable.

But she is not in the mood, so she says, "Honey, not tonight. I'm kind of…tired…"

Santana's hand stops and jerks itself out of Rachel's pajamas. Rachel almost regrets the absence of the warmth of Santana's hands in her pajamas. Santana removes her arm completely from Rachel's body and flops down on her back. Rachel senses that Santana might be sulking now, but Rachel cannot help herself.

There is silence that stretches to what seems like forever.

From Santana's breathing, Rachel knows she is not asleep yet. Rachel does not know what to do. She does not want what started out as a great Thanksgiving holiday to end this way. And she and Santana have always tried to kiss and make-up before going to bed. She does not know though how to start the conversation without sounding like a jealous, nagging, insecure _wife_. She knows though that when it comes to Santana, the most straightforward way is the best way, so she takes a deep breath, turns to her side and looks at Santana's outline in the darkness.

"That was…an interesting Thanksgiving," she says now.

Santana is silent. Rachel thinks she will not respond, but presently she says, "Yes, it was."

"Mrs. Lopez outdid herself. That was a wonderful dinner," Rachel continues. Monosyllabic responses, Rachel notes. Santana is probably a little irritated.

Santana is silent again.

Rachel thinks maybe Santana is a little bit more irritated than she lets on if she is not responding as readily. She holds her breath, hoping for a response still.

Presently, Santana speaks. "How many times do I have to tell you?"

There is irritation in her voice. Rachel now feels stupid for being jealous of Miranda if it makes Santana irritated like this.

Santana now turns to her, and says, "It's _Mami_, mom or mommy, Rach, not _Mrs._ Lopez."

Santana looks at her now, and a slow grin spreads to her face.

Rachel lets out a sigh of relief. Santana turns on her side, so they are face to face, molded into each other. Santana's hand snakes to Rachel's waist and pulls her closer. Rachel is so relieved she puts her arm on Santana's back.

Santana's chin is on Rachel's head, Rachel's face between Santana's neck and chest. They lie comfortably like this for what seems like hours, reveling in the warmth and intimacy.

Then Rachel deigns to comment, against her better judgment, "Miranda seems nice."

Santana makes a hmmm to indicate agreement.

They are quiet again.

Then Rachel says, "I mean, a bit annoying, but…nice…"

Suddenly, Santana pulls back and says, "Oh my god, I knew it!"

Rachel is confused. "What?"

"You're jealous!"

Rachel snorts in a very un-Rachel Berry kind of way. "I am not!"

"Baby, you _so_ are," Santana insists.

"I am not," Rachel insists.

"Baby, come off it," Santana says. "I've been with you five years. Don't tell me I don't know when my girlfriend is being jealous. You have that look on your face like you want to make Miranda's life a living hell! Or alternately kill her! Don't deny it."

Rachel is quiet. Maybe she is more transparent than she lets on. "So what if I am?" she says now. "Can you blame me? I mean, you've been spending way too much time with her, and you apparently defended her _honor_ or something, and now I know where you were that night you partied all night long…and what's with the diamond earrings?!"

Santana looks at her now, in the semi-darkness, puzzled and silent. Rachel thinks she is going to explode at her for everything that she has said. Mentioning the diamond earrings probably does not help either, as it implies she had been going through Santana's things without her permission.

But Santana just throws her head back and roars with laughter.

"Is this why I can't get lucky tonight?" Santana teases her. "Because you're jealous of Miranda _Vanderbilt_? Seriously."

"Well, when you put it like that…"

"Honey, _nothing's_ going on," Santana says now. "I hadn't brought her up then because there was no need to. And why would I talk about another woman with my _girlfriend_, for crisssakes? That's just _weird_. The only reason she came was because she had to bring some documents from the office that I forgot, and some others I needed to go through. I had meant to go to the office myself, but she'd mentioned that she was already there and could get them and drop them off for me instead. That meant I didn't have to tear myself away from you and Suzie so I agreed. And when she came and heard all the ruckus, it just seemed rude not to invite her. I totally thought she was going to say 'No' but she accepted the invite. What was I going to do?"

"And the earrings, well, she took them off that night we went to the bar because they're some kind of heirloom all the way to some great, great, great ancestor from the Mayflower or something and she was afraid she'd lose them. So she gave them to me for safekeeping…and yes, she goes around with its box, so I put in there," Santana explains. "I kept forgetting to return it to her, because really, I don't really care and I can't be bothered, so. And the only reason we got into a fight with some people in the bar was because of exactly how she was being tonight in the living room. I'd have left her to fend for herself then, but you know me…"

Yes, she did know Santana. She would, of course, have another person's back, no matter what. She is like this with Quinn, and Sam and Mercedes and even Puck, come to think of it.

"And I can't believe you would think I'd be into her!" Santana says now, mock hurt in her tone. "I have taste you know. Once you've had some Rachel Berry, you can't ever, ever go back."

She says this last part in a teasing way, so Rachel says, "Gross, San."

Santana laughs, moves over now and engulfs Rachel in a hug. "I'm sorry. I hope it didn't ruin your Thanksgiving."

Rachel thinks it almost did, but having Mrs. Lopez, Quinn, Sam, Kurt and Suzie there, made it better.

"Besides, it's not like I'd ever get away with cheating on you anyway," Santana says now. "What with Mom and Sam and Kurt and Quinn and even Suzie watching me like hawks…or maybe vultures, waiting for the time when I make a mistake. I'm pretty sure they'll never let me see the light of day. I mean, god, they were kind of a bit mean to Miranda earlier."

Rachel laughs. She had to admit that. It was nice to know she had family and friends looking out for them.

"You know your daughter probably let Kurt the hamster loose on purpose right?" Rachel says now.

Santana sighs. "Yes. And the ants, too. Are we grounding her?"

"She says we can't prove it."

"She's right though. No evidence."

"Maybe we can take away some viewing privileges or something."

"Good idea," Santana says. "How about that Miranda jumping around like a dervish, huh?"

Rachel laughs now. "Never saw anyone that massive move around like that!"

"So unsexy!" Santana says now.

"So unsexy!" Rachel echoes.

They hold each other like this until they feel sleepy and curl into each other in sleep.

Rachel thinks maybe it is the greatest Thanksgiving ever...

* * *

_**Author's end notes:**_

_**And that's it for this chapter! Again, your kind reviews are welcome. As I mentioned, the response to the previous chapter was so surprising, I had to finish this one quickly and upload it! Hope you enjoyed this chapter as well! And thanks for sticking with me this far into the story! It is much appreciated! Also, don't be hating on Santana, y'all! :) Peace all around! Haha! :)**_

_**To kutee – Re: Nod to School of Rock – yes, I did pay homage to that film!It's awesome, what can I say? :) Plus, it is so Rachel to do exactly what Jack Black did! :) Re: Santana, Miranda – hope this chapter answers that. As for Love Actually – yes, I did intentionally put it in hahah! Because I wanted the set-up but I wanted a different ending! I don't put stuff in unintentionally! Haha! Everything has a purpose.:) Again, many thanks for your review!**_

_**To MelovePezberry – Thanks for your review! Hope this chapter answers your questions! :)**_

_**To frustratedwriter13 – Re: Reference to School of Rock – hahah! Yes! Somebody else noticed that! haha! :) School of Rock is awesome! As I already mentioned in the beginning of this story, I wanted to give homage to those movies about school and teachers that were really awesome. :) Thanks for reviewing!**_

_**To CarolineSC – Hope this chapter answers your questions! :-) Thanks for reviewing as well! :-)**_

_**To ParmenideKN – Thank you so much for your kind comments, re: how my stories were written (and also for reading all three of them). I wanted to show how a realistic relationship would develop and I am glad you like it. Again thank you! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!**_

_**To parker88 – Re: Miranda Vanderbilt – hahaha! Sorry to disappoint. :) Re: earrings – hope this chapter answered that. :) Re: breakfast scene – Yes, that was a fun scene to write! Re: Suzie having no filter –She is a fun character to write! hahaha! ;) Glad you enjoyed the previous update! Hope you enjoyed this one, as well! Again, many thanks for reviewing! ;)**_

_**To missnewvillage – Re: Santana, Rachel, Miranda – hope this chapter answers that. :) RE: Macy Gray – I love her! But it's true though, can anyone really sing her? haha! RE: The chapter on choosing songs – yes, I enjoyed writing that. I love music! "Glee" kind of missed out on the comic possibilities for that! Haha! ;) Glad you are enjoying this series and story! Thank you for reviewing.**_

_**To silent lucidity – RE: Miranda as bad news – hahaha! Mkay. You just have to see what comes next. :) RE: You wanting Rachel for yourself instead – hahaha! I don't know about that. We have to get the consensus of the other Pezberry fans first! :) Thanks for reading!**_

_**To dayabieberxo – RE: If Santana is cheating you'll cut her – hahaha! Good thing team Pezberry has you on its side! Hope this chapter answers that! Re: Rachel is awesome – I know right?**_

_**To DragonsWillFly – Many thanks for going over this chapter! Words, as always, cannot express! And also because at your advanced age, I know it is getting harder to keep up with a younger fan fic writer like me. (hahaaha!) Kidding! Again, thank you so much for going over this! Live long and prosper!**_

_**Featured songs for this chapter (yes, I am still a bit on a Latin American music streak haha!):**_

_**"Si Te Vas" by Jon Secada (you might probably know this as "If You Go")**_

_**"If I Ain't Got You (Spanish version)" by Alicia Keys (because I love this version!)**_

_**"I Say A Little Prayer" by Dionne Warwick (Check out Naya Rivera/Santana's impromptu a capella version of this song on youtube dot com. It's really good.)**_

_**"Ben" by Jackson Five**_


	13. Poems, Gods and Goddesses

**_Author's note: Members of Team Pezberry, Team Rachel and Team Suzie! ;) Chapter 13 is up! Since you've been so good to this writer, thought I'd give you another chapter. Hope you enjoy this!_**

* * *

The day after Thanksgiving went by without a hitch, with Mrs. Lopez waking the household up with loud karaoke singing, crooning to Jaci Velasquez, Selena, Shakira, Gloria Estefan in quick succession. Santana had to wrestle the microphone away from her to an amused audience of Quinn, Rachel, Suzie and Kurt the hamster, whilst Santana scolded everyone for how they behaved during Miranda's visit. Everyone, of course, tried not to roll their eyes and snicker at Santana's mild diatribe. Rachel had a half-smirk on her face during all this. The morning was spent having a big breakfast of pancakes, cereals, toast and brewed coffee made by Mrs. Lopez and Quinn with the help of Suzie. Quinn left after breakfast, whilst Mrs. Lopez left after lunch, and the rest of their weekend was spent lounging around in the living room, cuddling, while watching movies on the television, or chatting, or munching on junk food.

It is altogether not a bad ending for a long weekend holiday, Rachel thinks.

* * *

After the long Thanksgiving weekend, the days and weeks go by very fast for Rachel. The days grow colder and shorter, and they go by in a blur with rehearsals, classes, quizzes, tests, lesson plans and other paperwork. The cold has made people take to wearing thicker coats, clothes, boots, caps, mittens or gloves. Taft High is freezing, and Rachel and her kids feel themselves shiver in the cold of their classroom, but the students get by huddled into each other for warmth as they discuss the last bits of "The Golden Compass". In fact, the cold has made them imagine the events of "The Golden Compass" more vividly. The reaction paper she requires of each one on "The Golden Compass" is predictably met by a collective groan and whine from the students, but she knows already that they will comply. Until they had been given an update of their grades for the past few months, they had thought Rachel was kidding about the "A" but after they saw that their records, did, in fact, contain the "A" promised, the kids had come to class even more enthusiastically, coming to class knowing the lesson and having read whatever homework Rachel has required of them.

Santana is still busy with her case, and as Rachel has made some apprehension about Miranda known, has taken to coming home earlier whenever she can, but this is still hard as their case has gained traction, some supporters and detractors. However, Santana does make an effort to call or text and is home most nights earlier than usual.

Suzie managed to finish her science project with Kate in time for submission and had gotten an "A minus" for the project, a grade that she was unhappy with and had complained about for days. Kurt the hamster has remained caffeine-free the past few weeks, for which Rachel is relieved about. Human Kurt still texts once in a while to express dismay over Kurt the hamster's chosen name.

Principal Abrams, Mr. Smith, and some of the other teachers, are delighted that Brooklyn Beatz made it past auditions. Rachel is glad Gloria keeps mum about what happened on their way to the auditions, and _how_ they got the auditions in the first place. Gloria's hot flashes remain undiminished, but the hormone replacement therapy is helping. Mr. Smith, despite being dorky and annoying half, if not most of the time, is much more invested in the Brooklyn Beatz than the others, as he had lent his keyboards and his van to the kids, and is thus quite happy they got in. He has said he will have his van checked so they can continue with its use all the way to the grand finals. The thought of using the van until the grand finals fills Rachel with dread.

* * *

One day in the middle of a busy December, whilst Rachel is wrapping things up on her discussion on "The Golden Compass", Baz comes in quickly, huffing and puffing and announcing, in between taking deep breaths, "Miz B! Mr. Abrams be on his way here. Says he be observing class."

Rachel is, at first, surprised, then anxious then finally nervous when she realizes Principal Abrams is serious about observing her class. It is not that she is worried about her teaching style, teaching methods, approaches and techniques being called into question, it is that she has not been using the textbooks and required reading lists prescribed by the New York Board of Education. She has even veered a little from the curriculum, although she still follows the main objectives set forth by the New York Board of Education when it comes to teaching English and literature. In fact, she has only later learned that two of the books in the list the students had submitted and which she had approved for discussion, "The Golden Compass" and "Hunger Games" had been controversial and banned in some schools for a number of reasons. She is worried Principal Abrams would raise that issue now and ruin what work she has done with the kids. She shivers now, not from the cold, but from anxiety and anticipation.

Presently, she nods to the students, announces they are done with "The Golden Compass" for the day, and will be studying a poem instead.

Principal Abrams' shiny bald pate chooses to appear on the small glass window on the door at that exact moment even as she hears a knock, the doorknob being turned and the man, in trademark Tweed, comes in, all flushed and excited.

"Good morning, everyone!" Principal Abrams greets everyone.

The students show varying ways of acknowledging his presence, Brooklyn style in greetings such as "Hey, Mr. A!" "What up?!" "Mornin'!" and "Hey, howyadoin?!" as well as non-verbal ones, some nodding their heads once, others raising fists, others raising palms, while the others just fold their arms and lean as far back as possible, looking as bored as they possibly could. Rachel already knows it is a bad idea for Principal Abrams to come observe the class, her kids do not work well when people of positions of authority are around, but she hopes they do not give her a hard time.

"Good morning, Principal Abrams," Rachel greets him, putting on her brightest, perkiest Rachel Berry smile. "To what do we owe this visit?"

"I'd like to observe your class, if that is okay with you," Principal Abrams says now, making a beeline for Rachel's chair at the front of the room, the one behind her desk.

The last part of his statement is not meant as a request or asking for Rachel's permission, it is more Principal Abrams saying "I'm doing this, no questions asked and that's that." Rachel sighs. _Here goes nothing_, she says.

"So we've finished discussing Shakespeare's '_Shall I compare thee to a summer's gay'_…I mean, day, day…!" Rachel quickly corrects herself.

The class looks at her blankly. They clearly had not discussed it and are aware that Rachel is putting on her "I'm-teaching-like-this-because-Principal-Abrams-is-observing-me" face. "So, today we are discussing William Ernst Hensley's 'Invictus'," she begins, as she distributes photocopies of the poem to the class.

As each one gets a copy, she starts to read the poem to the class.

"_Out of the night that covers me,  
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,  
I thank whatever gods may be  
For my unconquerable soul._

_In the fell clutch of circumstance_

_I have not winced nor cried aloud.  
Under the bludgeonings of chance  
My head is bloody, but unbowed.  
__  
Beyond this place of wrath and tears  
Looms but the Horror of the shade,  
And yet the menace of the years  
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid._

It matters not how strait the gate,  
How charged with punishments the scroll.  
I am the master of my fate:  
I am the captain of my soul."

"So class what does the first stanza of this poem mean? Anyone? Baz? McG? Jamal? Kareem?" Rachel asks now.

After she has read the poem no one has attempted to make a comment or snide remark about it. Minutes have passed by and a silence has descended and reigned in her cold classroom. She curses Principal Abrams, who has sat back, on her chair, sometimes randomly touching stuff on her table, pens, pencils, her post-it notes, color coded paper, notebooks, clipboard, textbooks, that she is annoyed. The students obviously do not like having Principal Abrams around as well. The silence is deafening, and she wishes someone would speak.

"Kareem, what does the _'black as the pit from pole to pole'_ mean?" Rachel asks now, the expression her face slightly pleading and challenging at the same time.

Kareem is silent for a while, but he finally nods and says, in an uncharacteristically, quiet manner (he normally shouts his answer enthusiastically), "I think it's racist."

Rachel is so relieved that someone has suddenly spoken that she does not even mind that Kareem's answer is more unfocused than most of his answers.

Kareem speaking encourages the others to suddenly speak one by one…

"Miz B, I be an atheist, so I don't be understanding what he be saying about '_thanking whatever gods there may be'_."

"Yeah. And how do you _'conquer souls'_?"

"_Yes, right ,okay, but what does ' in the fell clutch of circumstance' mean?"_

"Clutch! Hahah! Miz B always has a problem with the clutch in Mr. S's van!"

"_Okay, that's not what clutch means."_

"Well, it should be Miz B!"

"I think it means deadly grip, like when something bad has you in its grip. It's a metaphor for circumstance."

"_Thank you, Anferny."_

"Yeah, like this poem has us in its grip! Because nobody be understanding what the hell this poem be meanin'!"

"What does metaphor mean?"

"This poem be a little bit too melodramatic for my taste!"

"Hey, don't be dissing this poem! Nelson Mandela loved this poem! This got him through years of incarceration!"

"I can't believe Mandela likes this crap!"

"Oh, no she didn't!"

"Hey, you did _not_ just diss one of the greatest Africans that ever lived!"

"What does incarceration mean? Does that mean, like, being reborn?"

"That's reincarnation, Baz! Incarceration! _Imprisonment!_ Gah! Negro, give it up, you ain't gonna last in the real world. If your head ain't screwed on, I swear ya gonna lose it!"

"Shut up. You be going down one of these days!"

"_Alright, that's enough! Yes, Anferny?"_

"This poem is about having an unconquerable, invincible, undefeated spirit. That's what Invictus means. It's Latin. It's about never giving up. The poet, Henley, he had tuberculosis, he had to have his leg amputated. He wrote this poem to affirm that despite everything, he remains strong, undefeated, _invincible_…"

"Wow, Anferny, ya got that just from this reading this poem?"

"Negro, I read."

"Aw, snap!"

"This poem is hard! Why can't we be studying short poems?"

"_This _IS_ a short poem."_

"I mean, like those Jap poems that be sounding like a sneeze."

"_You mean, the haiku?"_

"Yes, that's the one!"

"_The shorter poems are actually even harder to study."_

"At least we're not studying epics!"

"What's an epic?"

"Isn't that a period of history, like the beginning of an era or something?"

"That's an _epoch_, stupid. Epic. Like Gilgamesh. Or Beowulf."

"Or Homer's Odyssey! That would be awesome to study, Miz B!"

"_I thought you 'skeeved' that stuff?"_

"Miz B, we skeeve _white_ stuff, but the ancient Greeks and Romans weren't really white, were they? So that's cool! Plus the stories be bad ass! That's awesome!"

"Hey, ain't Homer that guy from the Simpsons?"

"_As improbable as it may seem, before Homer became a famous cartoon, he was, in point of fact, a bard."_

"Bard? Is that short for bastard?"

"_Poet_, bro. _Poet."_

"_Thanks Anferny. Yes, Greek and Roman mythology had a lot of interesting stories written in poetry form about gods and goddesses and the origin of anything and everything under the sun."_

"Miz B, you right, mythology has many interesting stories. I like Arsenic, that goddess of hunting and…stuff…"

"_Artemis, Kenyatta. Artemis."_

"I dig Thesis."

"_Thesis?"_

"Yeah, that guy who defeated that half-man, half-cow dude."

"_Oh, you mean Theseus."_

"Yeah, that's the one. I also like Precious, too."

"Precious? The dude in Lord of the Rings?"

"_Precious?"_

"Isn't that the ring? The one ring to rule them all?"

"…And in the darkness bind them!"

"No, the one with the little flying pony. Like that cartoon. He also defeated that chick with the many snakes on her head."

"_You mean, Medusa_. _And it's Perseus, not Precious._ _I'm actually surprised you know that."_

"I saw the movies, Miz B."

"_Ah. Of course."_

"That movie also had Dildo! I dig Dildo!"

"_Dildo?"_

"I enjoy dildos."

"Miz B, you looking a little red."

"Yeah, you looking like as red as a fire engine!"

"You lookin' as red as my blouse!"

"_Dido_, idiot! The chick who fell in love with that guy who escaped the Trojan War!"

"Yeah, that's the one."

"Trojan! Haha! Like the condoms!"

"_Ah. Thanks, Baz, I appreciate you informing us that Trojan also means prophylactic but can everyone please _focus _now."_

"I like the one about Herpes!"

"_Herpes?"_

"You know those women who are kind of loud and annoying and they always be nagging you and stuff."

"You mean girlfriends! Hahaha!"

"_Oh, you mean Harpies."_

"Herpes! Haha! Yo, Baz, have you read the Legend of Gonorrhea, the Warrior Princess?"

"Wow, that sounds like an awesome story!"

"Yeah, it's in the book of the legends of Gonorrhea and Syphilis."

"_Baz, he's just messing with you. There's no warrior princess by that name, or a book of legends by those names either. Although I guess I should be glad, Anderson, that you are aware of STDs…?"_

"You an a-hole!"

"_Language Baz, please." _

"Sorry, Miz B!"

"Miz B! Hip hop is poetry, too!"

"_Oh? How so?"_

"Well, you be teaching us about rhyme and meter and all that stuff, and hip hop and rap have that, too! They be the same thing! And it has themes and issues and stuff like that. I mean rap's roots come from jazz poetry and West African poetry, you know?"

"_That sounds interesting."_

"Yeah, it is. Check this. I be rapping 'Invictus.' Yo, beatbox!"

"_Out of the night that covers me,  
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,  
I thank whatever gods may be  
For my unconquerable soul…_

_In the fell clutch of circumstance_

_I have not winced nor cried aloud.  
Under the bludgeonings of chance  
My head is bloody, but unbowed…_

_I be the master of my fate,  
I be the captain of my soul…_"

"_That's actually quite good, McG. But it's 'I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.'" _

"Thanks, Miz B. But my favorite is Tupac Shakur, and this song he has, it's full-on poetry, Miz B! Check this,

"_I see no changes wake up in the morning and I ask myself _

_Is life worth living should I blast myself? _

_I'm tired of bein' poor & even worse I'm black _

_My stomach hurts so I'm lookin' for a purse to snatch…" _

Their class discussion is interrupted suddenly by Principal Abrams screaming like a little girl after opening one of the lower drawers in Rachel's desk. He suddenly jumps up, pushes back the chair, and shoves the drawer back with his foot. His breathing is ragged, he looks afraid, his eyes are wide with terror, sweat pouring out of his bald pate.

Rachel looks at him, puzzled, before he suddenly runs out of the room, screaming.

Rachel wonders what he saw that could have made him run out like that, stricken and terrified. Her students are trying hard not to laugh, and some succeed, but a majority is snickering. She puts her book down and goes around to look at her desk, pulls out the lower drawer, and there, on top of the papers and folders she has put, lies a coiled snake. The sight of a coiled snake at first surprised, then terrifies her, and she catches her breath, makes to back out of the desk, then realizes that the snake is not moving, and is, in fact, rubber.

Everyone groans at her reaction. Rachel rolls her eyes.

"Aaaaw, Miz B ain't scared of the snake!"

"Bummer!"

"I bet if it were a real snake, she'd probably stare it down til it slithered away!...Or _sang_!"

"Alright, who put the rubber snake in my drawer?" Rachel asks now, looking at the row of faces in front of her, amidst laughter and snickers.

Everyone grows quiet.

Rachel sighs. Between Suzie's and her students' antics, it is a wonder she is standing at all. She shakes her head at her students and says, "You guys know that was a really bad thing to do right?"

The kids grin.

"Yeah, it was Miz B, but it was worth it to see Mr. Abrams face!"

"Yeah! Priceless!"

"Wish I could have filmed it!"

"Serves him right for interrupting class! We wanna learn y'all!"

Everyone laughs now.

"Alright, fine," Rachel says. "But for that, everyone gets homework and there's going to be a quiz." When everyone groans, she says, "That's what you get for pulling a prank like that on Principal Abrams."

"And also, why on earth did you not tell me you guys liked mythology? That's in the curriculum! We could have studied that more!" Rachel says, a little annoyed at the class.

"Sorry Miz B," the kids say. "We didn't think you'd last this long! Haha!"

Rachel rolls her eyes.

* * *

Later, Principal Abrams comes back between classes with the janitor, a security guard, Mr. Smith, a couple of gym teachers and has them take a look at the drawer. The embarrassment on his face is palpable when he realizes the snake is rubber.

"Detention! Detention for all those kids!" Principal Abrams sputters angrily now, embarrassed by the rubber snake.

It takes Rachel a while, but she finally convinces Principal Abrams not to place the kids in detention.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that, Principal Abrams," Rachel says now, trying to placate the man. "But that rubber snake was for me. They kind of try to do pranks like that sometimes."

"They _do_ this a lot?"

"Ah, no, sir," Rachel says now, very quickly. "Maybe once in a couple of months…or something."

Of course, this is not true. They had once glued the board eraser to the board, so she could not use it, had waxed the board so she could not write on it, would sometimes bring plastic spiders and cockroaches and today, rubber snakes. She should be so lucky though, one of the other teachers had been given cookies that ended up making him go to the bathroom every few minutes.

"Ah," Principal Abrams says now, thoughtful. "You're right, by the way, Miss Berry."

She looks at him.

"Right about what, Mr. Abrams?" she asks now.

"You're not really doing anything the other teachers aren't already doing," he continues now, thoughtful. "But I see how they respond to you, Miss Berry. And the way you just kept your cool even though they were going crazy in there during your discussions! I'm kind of surprised because teachers for classes like that never usually last a month! Let alone a week! It's fascinating. It's like watching penguins fly!"

Principal Abrams gets lost in thought for a second, then he looks back at Rachel and says, "Well, keep up the good work, Miss Berry!"

Rachel breathes a sigh of relief as she goes off to Glee Club practice. Crisis averted. Later, when she recounts the events of the day to Santana, Santana dissolves in stitches, amazed at Rachel's patience and single-minded devotion to her kids. "Who would've thought Rachel Berry would turn out to be a better teacher than all of McKinley High, Carmel High and Dalton Academy's teachers combined?" she had told Rachel in between delighted laughter. The look on her face though is unmistakable, it is the look of someone who is proud of this Rachel Berry. Rachel smiles.

* * *

The practice with the Glee kids resume after Thanksgiving.

Rachel has practice with them at least three times a week and Saturdays, as the other kids have football, basketball or some other extracurricular activities. Despite Rachel's vow to keep Suzie away from the Brooklyn Beatz kids, Suzie has become a regular fixture during these Saturdays.

The kids like Suzie and have taken to affectionately calling her "Shrub". Suzie hated the nickname at first, because she is not really short (she has Brittany's genes afterall!), although placed amongst the Taft kids, she is shorter. But, she prefers it to being called "Squirt". "Shrub" is actually growing on her.

The kids, following the success of their auditions, have become listless, restless, complacent, knowing they have practiced the same songs over and over again. According to contest rules, they do not have to sing new songs for eliminations, just sing the old ones from their auditions.

Rachel had agonized over this while talking to Santana about it and Santana had suggested, "Why don't you spice it up a bit, give it a new arrangement, give the better singers a few solos or something?"

"I have a 'no-solos policy' with the kids, honey," Rachel had said. "The solos we had in New Directions were exactly the reason we were always at each other's throats and why the club was always on the verge of falling apart."

"You mean, you were always getting the solos and we were always fighting over who gets to be second fiddle," Santana had pointed out, smirking.

Rachel had rolled her eyes, "You know what I mean."

Santana had laughed. "I'm over it. But it's true though. But baby, my god, you are so anal about this!" Santana had thought for a moment then and said, "How about doing it like that time we did 'Don't Stop Believin' during our first Regionals? We had a new arrangement and Mr. Schue spread out the lines among us, he gave a few of the lines to you and Finn, and a few to Puck and me and even Artie and Tina, I think."

"That's actually not a half-bad idea, honey."

"Half-bad?" Santana asked. "Never figured you for a 'glass-is-half-empty' kind of person. I'm a bad influence on you."

Rachel laughs.

So she has done a new arrangement of "It's So Hard to Say Goodbye to Yesterday" and "Oh, Happy Day."

The new arrangement has delighted the students but after a few days the students have become listless and restless again. They have the attention span of five year old kids who are, as she has described them time and time again, easily distracted by bright shiny things.

Salvation comes in the form of an email from the choir competition organizers, who inform her the of the new contest rule of three songs for the eliminations round. They thus need to come up with another song to add to the old ones they already have. She has informed the students about the new rule and they have enthusiastically promised to come up with suggestions.

Today, a Saturday, Rachel stands in front of a large, white board list of suggested songs on hand. Looking over it, she dreads the discussion they will be having.

Presently, she feels her phone vibrate from her jeans and when she checks the text, it is a text from Santana: _"Cara mia, quiero hacer contigo lo que la primavera hace con los cerezos. Yo te amo. 3 _" Save for the term of endearment in the beginning and the declaration of love in the end, she does not know what the text means. She smiles as she wonders what it means, and replies to Santana's text asking about it.

The students are on break. Anferny is sitting with Jamal, who is strumming a guitar whilst talking to him, Kenyatta congregating with Hannah and Maya, Amy and Isabelle together, Abdul by himself, McG and Kareem arguing over something enthusiastically, Dubs playing around with the keyboards. And Baz…Baz, she is surprised to see, is talking to Suzie. She is afraid of whatever they are talking about, but Baz seems to be listening earnestly to Suzie as Suzie talks, then stopping and listening intently when Baz replies. Baz then takes out his phone, thumbs through it while plugging the earphones to the phone, plays it and offers a bud to Suzie. Suzie puts one earphone to her ear and listens to it. They put their heads together and bob their heads at the same time. By the look on Suzie's face, she looks like she is enjoying the song and the thumbs up sign she gives Baz is confirmation of this. Rachel hopes to god he is not playing some age-inappropriate song for the child. Presently Suzie is also taking out her own iPod, thumbs through it, plugs her earphones into it and offers one earphone to Baz. Baz nods and puts it in his ear as she plays the song. They smile and nod at each other, bobbing their heads to the rhythm.

She watches as Baz and Suzie both stand up and Suzie assumes the first of five positions in ballet, both earphones now on her ears and iPod tucked in her jeans. Rachel has studied ballet when she was young and is still familiar with the dance positions, although she has had to give it up because she was not as talented in dancing as she was in singing.

She wonders what they are up to, as she watches Suzie do the first position and then is struck dumb when Baz, tall, muscled Baz, tries to imitate the position, in his large, oversized Caterpillar work boots and baggy jeans and shirt and earrings and necklace and waist chain. Some of the others notice this and watch but for the most part they ignore what they are doing in favor of whatever conversation they are having. Baz does the second position, the third position, the fourth and fifth position awkwardly and though she cannot hear what they are saying, she knows just from his expression that he finds it difficult. Suzie though seems delighted to have a willing pupil. It is a testament, Santana has pointed out, to how much Suzie adores Rachel, that Suzie wants to grow up to _be_ like Rachel – to be a star or a teacher, they do not know, but looking at Suzie now, Rachel thinks maybe Suzie wants to grow up to be a teacher. Her heart warms to the idea.

It is when Suzie teaches the other movements that things start getting interesting. He follows the _plié_ that Suzie demonstrates. Baz follows the plié, grunting and grimacing as he gets to the floor, then lifts himself up off the floor with the same grunts and grimaces. Rachel smiles at the scene as she goes over her clipboard.

Then Suzie does an arabesque, lifting her arms and one leg up. Baz imitates it, just for fun. It is when Suzie does the _assemblé_, that Rachel spies Baz struggling. Suzie launches into a jump from one foot , where the first foot performs battement _glissé, _swishing out, while the second foot swishes up under the first foot. Her feet then meet together in mid-air and she lands with both feet on the floor at the same time, in third position. Baz looks at her, impressed, thumb and forefinger stroking his chin, before he nods and tries it himself.

When Baz tries to execute it, he misses his footing and unceremoniously crashes on the floor with a loud "thud!" About the same time he does, some of the other kids look up, see him and someone screams, "Timbe_rrrr_!"

As he falls on the floor, another shouts, "Black man down, black man down! We need 50 ccs of _punani_, stat!"

As Rachel wonders what _punani_ is, she goes to Baz, but the boy jumps up quickly and says, to the laughter of the others, "I'm okay! I'm okay!"

At the same time, a text from Santana makes Rachel's phone buzz, so she opens the message and it simply says, "_I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees."_

A blush creeps up to Rachel's neck and to her face. She replies thus, "_ :-) What does _punani_ mean?_"

There is a quick response to this one. "_You don't know? It's one of my favorite parts of your body._"

Rachel blushes again. She types back, "_You are very, very naughty. Seriously, what does it mean?_"

Santana replies through text, _"I can't believe you don't know this. How can you be gay and _not_ know?"_

Rachel rolls her eyes at the text. "_One word, San, just one word. All I need is one word._"

"_I'm trying to, but you mentioning _punani_ suddenly just makes me think about that Saturday at that empty lot, when I was teaching you how to drive…and you know…_" Santana replies now.

Rachel smiles, because of course this is the one thing Santana would think of. Her phone buzzes again, and it is another message from Santana: _"Particularly loved what we did at home right after the parking lot…just before we picked up Suzie….the one on the couch, the kitchen and in the shower…actually thinking about this morning, too. So turning me on right now."_

Rachel's heart leaps at this, and she types a hasty, "_Shouldn't you be working?"_

"_Yeah, but suddenly thinking about making love to you…_" Santana replies in her text.

They exchange a few more quick, short texts on their phones, each text from Santana making Rachel blush even more deeply. Santana _has_ been known for her steamy, too-hot-to-erase sexts.

"_Well…get back to work now…and show me later what spring does to cherry trees… :)_ _Love you,_" Rachel types in hastily and presses send.

"Those steps are whack!" Baz says now.

"Yeah!" McG and Kareem say, laughing. "We'll teach you how to dance, Brooklyn style! Music, man!"

Somebody hits play on the player, Chemical Brothers' "Block Rockin' Beats" start playing, and Baz, McG and Jamal start breakdancing on the gym floor. The dance moves remind Rachel of those on "Step Up", a movie that Santana and Suzie both love and which, on more than one occasion, Suzie has made them watch over and over again on movie night.

Suzie stands and watches in awe as the boys fly off in the air doing handsprings, somersaults, backflips, cartwheels, spinning and twisting their bodies on the floor with their heads, their arms, their knees, their feet. Some of them are doing some familiar pop and lock moves Mike Chang used to do in high school. From the look on her face, Rachel knows the girl thinks this is the coolest thing ever.

When the song finishes, the three stand there all sweaty and huffing and puffing to a round of delighted applause from the kids, Suzie, Gloria and Rachel.

"Thanks, y'all, but you gotta know your roots, too, you know," Kareem says now. He moves to change the music and announces, "This is 'Revolution' from Arrested Development."

Rachel recognizes the song. She can more correctly identify hip hop and R and B artists and songs now, as the students have been giving her an ongoing "History of Black Music" session, in retaliation, she thinks, for her giving them that "Choir Appreciation" session a couple of months back. The session entailed a detailed PowerPoint presentation complete with a history timeline of rap, hip hop and R n B, pictures, video clips, mp3 files of songs, samples, current issues and trends in the music. She now knows hip hop started in New York in the 70s in the African American and Latino party scene, but that it has been heavily influenced by such things as soul, jazz poetry, West African music and African American religious ceremonies. She now knows about the golden age of hip hop, the significant hip hop and rap artists that one must absolutely know about, gangsta rap, the East Coast, West Coast rap scene, glitch hop, wonky music, trip hop, dubstep, IDM, the evolution and innovation in hip hop and hip hop in world music. It was quite the impressive presentation and Santana had smiled at her enthusiasm when she recounted it to her. "Yeah, we be cool like that," Santana had said, using her best ghetto voice. Rachel had laughed.

The song starts to play and he starts to teach them how to dance the M'assai dance from Kenya, where, he says his great, great, great grandfather was from.

"You're great, great, great grandfather was from New Jersey!" somebody shouts.

He ignores it and the other kids start following his lead, jumping forward, swaying forward once or twice, then jumping forward again, doing the same thing over and over again.

Then he teaches them the Waka-waka, "That Shakira song from 2009 World Cup?"somebody asks and he says, "Yeah, that one."

"Cool!" the kids and Suzie say and they follow his lead as he moves around doing the Waka-Waka with his arms and legs flailing around to the tune of "Revolution" by Arrested Development.

After he has taught the dance moves to the kids, the kids break formation and just start dancing and jumping around to the song, shouting "Revolution!"

"Hey, Miz B! Come join us!"

"Yeah! Miz B be starting a revolution!"

Someone drags Rachel to the center of the circle of dancing kids and she reluctantly dances to the teasing comments of students:

"Miz B, stop framing your face!"

"Miz B, the mash potato was declared an atrocity by the Geneva Convention!"

"So is the Roger Rabbit!"

"And the locomotion!"

"Miz B, 1985 called, they want 'Moonwalk' back!"

"Miz B, just…sway from side to side, don't do anything else…don't be making those funny faces you make…and don't be doing funny stuff with your arms and legs!"

The kids laugh and someone changes the song and shouts, "Gangnam style!" and everyone starts dancing like they are on horses, hands in the air, going around in circles. Rachel does not know this dance move, but for some strange reason it reminds her of Quinn's description of Miranda Vanderbilt and she smiles to herself.

After what seems like forever, Rachel finally manages to gather the kids together in front of the white board, sitting in front of her, waiting for her to begin.

"Before I begin, has anyone given some thought on what college they want to go to after they graduate?" she starts. She had asked the Glee Club kids a few days ago about starting to think about what college they would like to go to. She had given them some college brochures and pamphlets. She had also given some of the kids, such as Anferny and Baz, application forms. The former she had given a NYADA application form to and the latter a community college form. Baz, in particular, had an unreadable expression on his face when she had offered him the form but he took the form anyway.

"Aaaaw, Miz B, we been busy," Baz says. "And it's too early to think about college. We got a year left."

"It's never too early to think about college," Rachel says now. "Don't put off tomorrow what you can do today."

"Miz B, why put off tomorrow what you can do the day after tomorrow?!"

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Just…think about it. Okay, anyway, I've gone over your suggestions…" she begins.

"Here it comes," Baz says.

"What?"

"You have that tone, Miz B…"

"What tone…?"

"The 'I-can't-believe-you-suggested-this' tone," Baz says.

"I have a tone?" Rachel asks now.

"You have many tones!" the kids say.

"You have the 'shut-up' tone…"

"The 'You-are-in-big-trouble' tone…"

"The 'If-you-don't-behave-you're-getting-detention-and-or-an-F' tone…"

"Alright, now that we have established I have a lot of tones," Rachel says, glancing at Suzie who hears the conversation in the bleachers, and smiles. Suzie and Gloria are sitting together, watching something on Suzie's laptop. Presently, Suzie is looking at her mobile phone, scrolling on something.

"Okay. You have a look, too, Miz B! D'you want to know? We could give you a chart!"

"No, thank you, I don't think I want to know," Rachel says now.

"Okay, suit yourself, Miz B."

Presently, she raises her voice above the din to command attention and says, "Alright. I've gone over your suggestions, and I'd like to say, despite the fact that I do enjoy the following we cannot use this for eliminations: Chemical Brothers, Moby, Prodigy or Fatboy Slim."

"Well, why not, Miz B?"

Rachel sighs. It is the "Why not?" that usually throws her off and stresses her out. She says now, "Because their music hardly have any lyrics!"

"Exactly!"

Rachel rolls her eyes. "We're _still_ not doing _any_ of them."

They all groan.

"And I was looking forward to just mindlessly humming in the background!" somebody says.

Rachel glares and the student says, "Sorry, Miz B!"

"No Enya, too, by the way."

"Why not? She's awesome!"

"Do you want to put the audience to sleep?" Rachel asks. "You want to win or not or what?"

Rachel looks down at her clipboard and says, "And, oh yes, no 'Ironic' by Alanis Morisette. Aside from the fact that the word 'ironic' has been used in that song blatantly incorrectly – those situations Alanis describes are not ironic, they're _unfortunate_, there's a difference – I just don't think it's for Brooklyn Beats."

"Beatzzzz, Miz B…Beatzzz with a 'zzzz'."

"That's what I said," Rachel says now.

"You said _Beats. _It's Beat_zzz_. With a 'z'."

"Ah. I'm sorry if I mispronounced an _incorrectly_ spelled word," Rachel says sarcastically.

"That's okay."

"Also, we can't sing Bjork either," Rachel says.

"Aaawww…and I wanted to sing her!"

"And I be so looking forward to wearing that dead swan outfit she wore at the Oscars that one time."

"You want to wear a dead swan outfit, Baz? Why don't you just wear a tutu and tights and make-up and join the Pride Parade?!"

"I would…but that would make me look fat."

"I was not expecting that…"

"Anyway, she always sounds like she's out of tune!"

"She be sounding like she on helium."

"Or crack."

"I'm still trying to figure out if whatever she is doing would be called singing _at all_…"

"That's why! The judges will never know the difference!"

"That's enough," Rachel raises her voice now, so she could be heard above the din. "And Amy, we can't do Yellow Monkey or Utada Hikaru."

Amy looks up and nods meekly. Amy and Isabelle are so quiet sometimes, Rachel hardly ever notices them, being overshadowed by the louder kids led by Kenyatta and Baz.

"I'm sorry. I know you said we could do translations and stuff, but the songs are in _Japanese_. And yes, Baz, 'Gangnam' style, is out…whatever that means…it's in _Korean._"

"But Miz B, K-Pop is da bomb!"

"I mean, _surely_ we can come up with some other songs that are appropriate for the competitions?" Rachel asks now, looking at the students.

"Miz B, my name ain't Shirley."

"Shirley?" Rachel wonders. Half of the time, she feels like she is in a high school version of "The Twilight Zone" and she does not understand what half of her students are saying.

In the silence that follows, the students fill it with much enthusiastic discussion about what third song to do for the eliminations.

Amy suddenly raises her hand and Rachel nods to her and she says, "How about 'Sukiyaki' by 4PM?"

"If that's another song in Japanese, Amy, I'm sorry but…we can't possibly…"

"Well, it's originally Japanese, Miz B," Amy says now, voice soft and sweet. "But it's really good."

"Do you have the song with you now?"

Amy nods, looking suddenly self-conscious as everyone looks at her. "I mean, I like all the songs suggested thus far, but I hope we could do some songs written by or sung by Asians, too...I mean it's actually pretty popular – Selena even sang a Spanish version of it. And Salt N Pepa, Snoop Dogg, Mary J Blige and Bone Thugs have all included it in whole or in part in their songs…"

"Cool…"

Rachel nods. This is the longest Amy has spoken and it must mean a lot to her to want to speak this long to everyone, so she says, "Okay. Let's hear it."

Amy gets up to get the speakers and jacks it into her music player and plays the song. Everyone is quiet as they listen to the song.

"_It's all because of you,_

_I'm feeling sad and blue _

_You went away, _

_Now my life is just a rainy day and I love you so, _

_How much you'll never know _

_You've gone away and left me lonely."_

Everyone is quiet as the song "Sukiyaki" fills the gym. The students close their eyes, or bob their head or sway their body to the song.

When the song finishes, everyone is still quiet.

"It's actually a good song," Baz now says, breaking the silence.

"Yes, it is," Anferny agrees.

"It's actually quite familiar," Kareem says thoughtfully now.

"I can see where we can harmonize," McG says. "We just need an arrangement for twelve voices."

"Yeah, the girls can do the first stanza, and we can do the second stanza and we can all do the chorus and stuff," Kareem says.

Rachel is speechless as the kids start talking about voices, harmonizing and so on.

She cannot help but feel proud of these kids.

They spend a few more minutes talking about the song and how best to practice it. Rachel says she will do the arrangements.

As she puts her notes and her clipboard and pens in her bag, her phone buzzes and she opens it and it is a text from Mrs. Lopez: "_Love you, too, mija. ;-)._" Then she receives another text, this one from Suzie, and as she reads it, a blush goes up to her face, when she recognizes the first part of the text and underneath it, Suzie has typed this message: _"Mee, I don't think this text was meant for me…Also, I love you both, but you're scarring me for life…I so need therapy after this…" _ Her blush deepens when she realizes she has probably sent a text to Mrs. Lopez meant for Santana by mistake.

She types a message to Santana: "_You and your sexts! Accidentally sent a text to your mom and Suzie! Apparently might have scarred Suzie for life!_"

Santana's reply is quick: "_OMG! LOL! Well, it's better than that time mom walked in on us! LOL! And punani means vagina by the way…_"

The last part of Santana's text makes Rachel blush.

* * *

As they wrap things up for the day, she spies someone standing by the doorway to the gym. It is Ruth, the student who had not attended the auditions. She is shy and silent as she stands by the door. She has not seen Ruth around the school much since the auditions, nor has she heard why Ruth had bailed on them at the last minute. But Rachel waves and comes over and greets her.

"Hi, fancy seeing you here," Rachel says, smiling.

"Hi Miz B," Ruth says, awkwardly. "I'm sorry for…not coming to auditions. Can I come back to Glee Club?"

"That depends," Rachel says now. "Are you going to bail on us again like you did last time?"

Ruth squirms, puts her hands together and starts wringing them. "I'm really sorry. I've been having…problems and…I just couldn't…"

Rachel can see that she is struggling and there is obvious remorse and regret on her face.

"I really like Glee Club, Miz B," Ruth says, "Please take me back."

There is something about how desperate Ruth sounds, like this is her last anchor to life, that makes Rachel nod.

"Okay," Rachel says now. "But we have to bring it to the group for a vote. That's only fair. We're a team, you know…"

"I know Miz B, I'm sorry I failed the team. I'm sorry I failed you."

"And as much as I hate doing the democratic process," and here Rachel pauses, as her commitment to be democratic in class and in Glee Club is sometimes the reason why it takes twice as long for anything to get done, as everyone always seems to have an opinion about _anything_, "Your teammates also have a right to decide on this."

Ruth nods.

They head back to the group and Rachel explains that Ruth wants to return to the club. Ruth stands beside her, nervous, anxious and apprehensive, still wringing her hands in front of her.

The kids listen to Rachel, then Ruth and after much deliberation, they vote to take Ruth back. Ruth breathes a sigh of relief. Rachel smiles at her. Everyone gets up to leave.

As she and Suzie prepare to leave, Kenyatta comes up to her.

"Hey, Miz B," Kenyatta says now, softly, that it surprises Rachel. Kenyatta is usually loud and annoying. "Can we talk?"

Rachel looks at her and the look on Kenyatta's face is so stricken and serious, she nods.

"Honey, I have to talk to Kenyatta, okay? Do you mind waiting?" Rachel asks the child.

Suzie shakes her head no, and skips off to chat with Baz and the others.

Kenyatta leads Rachel away from the group and when they have sufficiently distanced themselves from the others, and Kenyatta is sure they are away from earshot, Rachel looks at her, raises her eyebrows in anticipation.

"What's up?" Rachel asks.

"Miz B," Kenyatta says now, hesitantly.

"What?"

"I don't know if I can join eliminations."

"What?" Rachel asks now, concerned. "Why? You have a solo on 'Oh, Happy Day'!"

"I don't think I can attend."

"Yes, you just told me that," Rachel says. "But why?"

"Because…" Kenyatta, whose eyes were trained on the gym floor all this, looks to Rachel now and says, "I think I might be pregnant."

* * *

_**Author's note:**_

_**And there you have it! :)**_

_**Again, many thanks for reading and kind reviews are most welcome and much appreciated (you know the drill!). :) Also, receiving a lot of love for team Pezberry, Quinn, Sam, Mrs. Lopez and especially Suzie! To everyone, thank you so much!**_

_**On to your comments –**_

_**To MelovePezberry – RE: Quinn and Santana singing "Say a Little Prayer" - It's one of my favorite Glee songs. Plus, Naya Rivera's impromptu a capella version was really awesome! I wanted to include it as a nod to Season 1 (which is still the best season, by the way!) RE: Quinn was a true trip – yeah, she was fun! :) RE: Suzie was the best – I know right? I love writing this character! RE: I finally know why she call Rachel Mee because as she said none get's in the way of you (San) Mom and (Rachel) Mee – Cool! Someone finally figured it out. :) Thanks for your review!**_

_**To kutee - RE: I AM TEAM SUZIE FOR LIFE! – I love this comment! Thank you! :) Quinn ,Sam and Kurt all made my day – Glad they made your day! Re: Santana's Mom also knew what Suzie was up to with little Kurt – hahah! Mkay. RE: I so happy you wrote this – Glad I could make you happy! You're welcome! :) Thanks for reading and reviewing!**_

_**To parker88 Re: Quinn and I seem to think alike regarding Vanderbilt lol.- hahaha! Mkay! RE: Team Rachel all the way:-) – Heck, yeah! :) Thanks for reading and reviewing! Cheers!**_

_**To Guest (whoever you are :-)) – Thanks for reading!**_

_**To ParmenideKN Re: This chapter was awesome! –Thanks! Re: I LOVE Suzie...—Yeah! :) RE: team Rachel all the way, of course! :) :) – ALL the way! :) Thanks for reading and reviewing!**_

_**To missnewvillage – RE: "If I Ain't Got You" Spanish version - I love Alicia Keys and the Spanish version of this song, too! I knew I just had to include it. :) So bummed "Glee" couldn't include awesome music like this! Thanks for reading and reviewing! :-)**_

_**SoFlaComet Re: Rachel and Santana – gotta stick around for the saga! RE: Loved the interaction between Rachel and Quinn – yeah, I wanted them to interact in this way, as friends, not like in the show, which was all weird and puzzling. RE: Suzie is the best – She is, isn't she? RE: Thanks for sharing – you're welcome! Thanks for reading! (And thanks for reading all three of my stories!)**_

_**RE: CarolineSC – Thanks for reading and reviewing! :-)**_

_**RE: dayabieberxo RE: LOVED this chapter! – Thanks! Re: How everyone was acting when Kurt was loose lol and Quinn, Mrs. Lopez, Sam, and Suzie were awesome in this chapter! Lol it was really funny :) – Thanks, glad it made you laugh! :) Thanks for reading and reviewing!**_

_**To DragonsWillFly – Dragon, many thanks for going over this chapter, even though you SLEPT ON ME! hahaha! Kidding! :) Your comments are always encouraging and inspiring, and it helps that you help sustain the inspiration with your always kind comments! :) Cheers!**_

_**Acknowledgements:**_

_**Many thanks to Cummings Study Guide for the background and insights on the poem, "Invictus" by William Ernst Henley and wikipedia for the ballet stuff. :)**_

_**The line "Quiero hacer contigo lo que la primavera hace con los cerezos" is from a sonnet by Pablo Neruda.**_

_**Featured songs for this chapter:**_

_**"Revolution" – Arrested Development (It's a nice song!)**_

_**"Block Rockin' Beats" – Chemical Brothers (because the beta and I love this!)**_

_**"Changes" – Tupac Shakur (Because Tupac Shakur was awesome and reminds me of what hip-hop used to be)**_

_**"Sukiyaki" – 4PM (yes, I'm now featuring covers of Asian songs. :) Because…why not? :) World music is awesome.)**_

_**"Gangnam Style" – Psi (I know, I know, but I couldn't resist! hahah! This is a nod to my many friends, associates and other known acquaintances who are Korean…and/or Asian!:))**_


	14. Luigi's

**_Author's note: Team Pezberry! Chapter 14 is up! Happy reading! _:)_ Hope you like this…_**

* * *

Rachel stands outside of the Taft High main building, lost in thought as Suzie alternately sits on the steps, stands up, stamps her feet in the cold, shivering, watching puffs of white air blow out of her mouth, or twirling and pirouetting, oblivious to Rachel's silence as she listens to her iPod.

Santana has called her earlier and informed her that she will come pick them up shortly. She is in town, she says, and it will take a few minutes, but she will get there in time and they will all have lunch together.

Rachel does not mind waiting for her, as this will give her some time to think about what Kenyatta has revealed earlier. Suzie, who has always been good at keeping herself occupied, does not seem to mind waiting for her mother as well.

Rachel goes over the conversation in her mind, still finding herself at a loss.

She has not had anyone confide in her something as serious and huge as this one. She has spent the better part of high school and college being kept in the dark about a lot of things (Quinn's pregnancy, who the real father was, Finn sleeping with Santana). They had done so because they thought she could not really keep a secret, which meant they did not really trust her enough with secrets. She does not mind this, though. If truth be told, she does not really know how she will be able to handle if someone actually told her something like what Kenyatta had said earlier.

Rachel is now embarrassed at how she had reacted actually, which was speechless, awkward, uncomfortable. Truthfully she is unused to having someone confide to her. Even Santana, who has opened up more and more about a few things the past few years, still keeps a lot of things to herself. And having someone, a minor at that, confiding that she might be pregnant, leaves her at a loss for words. This is not, she finds out later, what Kenyatta's real problem is however.

"I'm not telling you this so I could get sympathy or pity from you, Miz B," Kenyatta had said quickly, almost coldly, although her eyes seemed to say otherwise.

Rachel had shaken her head. "No, of course not."

"I'm just saying I won't be able to join the eliminations…" Kenyatta had said, eyes darting to the others who were leaving the gym with much noise and shouting and squeaking of shoes on the floor. She watches Suzie skip away from them, twirling and tiptoeing and performing arabesques and pirouettes in the quickly emptying gym.

As the last of the voices fade away, Kenyatta had said, "I'm saying I won't be there because I might have an appointment that day."

"Appointment?" Rachel had asked, confused.

"Appointment to," Kenyatta stops, lowers her voice, as if the gym walls had ears and can spread her news fast. "Get rid of it."

Rachel had been quiet, unsure of what to say next. She had wanted to freak out, really freak out, this is too much responsibility laid on her shoulders, she does not really know how to handle this. Being stepmother to Suzie, is already hard as it is. She decides that the most straightforward way with Kenyatta would be best, and she had asked, "Are you sure?"

"I've missed my period the past couple of weeks," Kenyatta says now, flatly, as she takes a seat on one of the bleachers. "And I've never missed a period. Ever. I'm pretty regular."

Under normal circumstances, having a student give her way too much information about her period would have been comical had it not been for Kenyatta's expression right now. "Okay," Rachel had said, as she takes a seat beside her. She carefully says now, "I mean, are you sure you want to get rid of it?"

"Yes, Miz B." There is a hint of uncertainty in her voice. Rachel looks at Kenyatta now and suddenly realizes for all Kenyatta's bitchiness and overall tough attitude how young and vulnerable Kenyatta really is.

"I mean, it's dangerous," Rachel says now. "And you're so young…and studies show…"

"Yes, I know about the studies," Kenyatta interrupts now. Rachel has been known to quote a study, a survey, a research now and then.

"Does your family know?" Rachel asks.

Kenyatta shakes her head. "They'll kill me. I'm working on getting into a good college…get out of Brooklyn…you know?"

Rachel nods.

"Does Anferny know?" Rachel asks now, suddenly remembering about Anferny.

Kenyatta looks at her. "We broke up. A month ago. He doesn't know. And I don't think it's his anyway."

The shock of Kenyatta's news renders Rachel dumbstruck. Rachel has never concerned herself with her students' personal lives, considers them private and does so because she wants her own personal life to remain private and untouched by public scrutiny.

They are silent for what seems like forever.

Suzie has conveniently, and, Rachel suspects, considerately moved farther away from them, on the opposite side of the gym, doing splits on the floor, earphones still in her ear, stretching and bending over. The silence is deafening over at Rachel and Kenyatta's side. The air feels heavy with Kenyatta's terror, confusion, anxiety. Rachel can almost feel it. Rachel tentatively puts her hand on Kenyatta's shoulder.

Presently, Rachel clears her throat. "Is there anything I can do?"

Kenyatta shakes her head, says flatly, "No."

"You want me to," and here Rachel hesitates, swallows, sighs and continues, "Come with you?"

Kenyatta shakes her head again, but she looks up at Rachel and Rachel can see so much gratitude and relief there, like something, a thorn, has been pulled out and she can breathe easily now. Kenyatta's eyes well up with tears. "But thank you."

Rachel and Kenyatta had sat in the now empty gym, in the cold of an early autumn afternoon. Suzie, bless her soul, is now watching something in her iPod.

They do not speak. All Rachel can hear are Kenyatta's quiet sobs, can feel her shoulders quivering, her chest heaving with every sob, like she is out of breath, like Rachel is some anchor she can cling to.

They sit on the bleachers like this for what seems like forever until Kenyatta breaks away, wiping tears from her eyes. Rachel digs into her bag for a packet of tissues and offers it now to Kenyatta.

Kenyatta smiles weakly through her tears, accepts the tissues, dabs at her eyes, thanks her and gets up, a little embarrassed at her outburst. She looks at Rachel, gives her another careful, quivering, sad smile, mumbles another thank you and says she has to leave now as her mom might come looking for her.

* * *

Kenyatta's revelation has Rachel deep in thought long after Kenyatta has left.

She thinks about it now as she and Suzie wait for Santana. Presently, Suzie comes up to her and without warning, puts her arms around Rachel's waist. Rachel is startled but immediately recovers, smiling down at Suzie as she hugs her back.

"What's this?" Rachel asks as she holds Suzie.

Suzie looks up, shrugs. "I thought maybe you could use a hug, Mee."

Rachel smiles at her and continues to hold her as they spy Santana's Honda coming up to the building. She pulls the car up in front of them, rolls down the window on the passenger side, leans over and says, "Hey, sorry I'm late. Traffic. Get in, you two."

Rachel smiles now whilst Suzie untangles herself from her, grabs her laptop and skips to open the door on the backseat, opens it and slides in. "Seatbelt, Suzie," Rachel can hear Santana say as she opens the passenger side beside the driver's side. As Rachel slides in, and snaps her seatbelt in place, Santana leans over and greets her with a kiss and a very happy, "Hey, babe! What's up? Got you something," as she hands over a bunch of roses to a surprised Rachel. Santana is wearing a white silk blouse under her dark suit and she simultaneously looks beautiful and professional and intimidating all at the same time. Radiohead's song "High and Dry" is playing on the car stereo.

"_Two jumps in a week  
I bet you think that's pretty clever don't you boy?  
Flying on your motorcycle,  
Watching all the ground beneath you drop.._"

Rachel smiles now as she holds the bunch of flowers in front of her. "Thanks," she says shyly now, flustered, as she leans over and smells the flowers. Santana gives her a tender smile.

Santana then turns around to look at Suzie, grins at her daughter whilst saying, "Hey, kiddo. Had a great time with your mother?"

Suzie grins back. "Yeah!"

"Cool!" Santana says as she turns back around again, shifts gears and drives away from the school.

"Hey, mom, that's so cool you got Mee some flowers," Suzie says.

"Uhuh," Santana says as she takes to the main road, buildings and houses whizzing by as they go through neighborhoods away from Taft High. "So, what do you guys want to have for lunch?"

"Yeah. Did you know flowers are actually symbolic _vaginas_?" Suzie asks now, ignoring Santana's question.

There is a shocked silence in front as each one contemplates what Suzie has just said.

Rachel clears her throat, makes a face as she holds the roses away, "I simultaneously may have developed a dislike for flowers _and_ lost my appetite."

Santana chuckles. "At least we know Suzie's getting a good education, knowing stuff that are completely _useless_ in the real world, hmmm?" she says, looking at the mirror and grinning at Suzie at the back.

"Mom, what is that music you're playing?" Suzie now says, clearly over the trivia she has just declared.

Santana glances at the stereo.

"_Don't leave me high, don't leave me dry  
Don't leave me high, don't leave me dry…"_

"What?" Santana asks. "It's Radiohead's 'High and Dry'."

"It sounds depressing."

"It's a cool song!" Santana says defensively now.

"It makes me want to gag myself with a spoon!"

Santana rolls her eyes. Santana and Suzie sometimes get into arguments over playlists played in the car. Suzie likes hip hop and R and B, but likes classical music or pop songs more. Santana likes everything else, except Barbara Streisand and Puccini. Rachel has given up arguing with them about what to play in the car, and will, most times, endure whatever music Santana and Suzie agree to play.

"It's an awesome song," Santana insists now.

"Yeah, but it's not the kind of song that's going to…you know…get you in the mood," Suzie says.

"In the mood for what?" Santana asks as she stops at a stop light, waiting for the light to turn green.

"Mee sent me a text that was meant for you today."

There is another awkward, embarrassed silence in the front. Thankfully the light turns green and Santana quickly shifts gears for something to do. Suzie now leans over and says, "_This_ will get you in the mood."

She syncs her iPod up with the stereo and in a few seconds they can hear the familiar strains of a heavy bass beat and a deep, bass voice intoning,

"_It feels so good__  
__You lying here next to me…"_

There is a pause in front before Santana does her trademark comical confused-incredulous look coupled with furrowed brows and asks, "Oh my god, is that Barry _White_?"

Rachel, quiet all this time, tilts her head, listens to the rest of the lyrics and says, "I think it is."

"_Oh, what a groove_

_You have no idea, how it feels__  
__My hands just won't keep still__  
__I love you, baby__  
__Oh, I love you, I love you, I love you__  
__I just wanna hold you__  
__Run my fingers through your hair"_

Santana, brows still knit together, asks Suzie, "Where do you get this stuff?"

"Was that what you and Baz were talking about oh so seriously this morning?" Rachel asks.

"Baz told me this is a great song to get you in the mood," Suzie confidently says now.

"Baz?" Santana asks.

"He's…."Rachel says, hesitating. "…One of my students."

"She has _got_ to stop hanging out with your kids, Rach," Santana says now, over Barry White's voice singing in the background.

"He's a cool guy," Suzie says now, in his defense. "He says playing Barry White or Coltrane or Sade would be a really cool way to get in the mood. He says if I play this I can get Kate in the mood…"

Santana makes a face. "In the mood for what?"

"I'm still trying to figure that out."

Rachel turns around now to Suzie. "Honey, congrats! You have officially turned courtship into an Olympic sport."

Suzie grins. "Thanks! I guess." Suzie tilts her head and looks at Rachel. "What does that mean, Mee?"

Rachel laughs.

Santana looks at Rachel now with something akin to accusation, like Rachel is to blame for all this and Rachel says, "Don't look at me. She's _your_ child."

"How come she's _my_ child when she gets like this and she's _our_ child when she does something good?"

Rachel laughs. "It just _is_."

"Anyway, Kate and I are hanging out this afternoon, is that okay, mom?" Suzie asks now. "Mee?"

Santana sighs, looks at Rachel, who nods her agreement. "Yes, I guess so. But I don't want to be hearing you doing any funny stuff with Kate, okay?"

"Okay, mom," Suzie says cheerfully now.

"So, where to now?" Santana asks now.

"Pizza!" Suzie squeals delightfully.

"Pizza," Rachel agrees.

"Luigi's?" Santana suggests.

"Luigi's! Yes!" Suzie says.

Rachel nods as well.

"Mom, mom, did you know?" Suzie says now.

"What?" Santana asks.

"That when it snows, my eyes become large and the light that you shine can be seen?" Suzie ends now, singing the line for Santana.

Santana laughs as both Suzie and Rachel sing the rest of the chorus for Santana.

"_Baby,  
I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the gray.  
Ooh…The more I get of you,  
The stranger it feels, yeah.  
And now that your rose is in bloom_

_A light hits the gloom on the gray..."_

Suzie has once told Rachel that there was a time, when they had one of those fights when Santana and Suzie were still living in California and Rachel was living in New York, that Santana would listen over and over again, for some strange reason, to Seal's "Kiss from a Rose". Now, Suzie is trying to get both women to join in their guess-the-name-of-the-song game in the car by reminding them of the song forever associated with how Santana gets when she gets into a fight with Rachel.

Santana says now, "'Kiss from a Rose', of course. Seal. My turn!"

"_In a time_

_Where the sun descends alone_

_I run a long, long way from home_

_To find a heart that's made of stone…"_

Rachel smiles now. "'Fading Like a Flower', Roxette."

"I don't know this song," Suzie protests now. "No fair!"

"Tough luck, kiddo!" Santana says now, laughing.

Suzie pouts in the back as Rachel turns around and says, "My turn!"

"_Eyes like a sunrise_

_Like a rainfall_

_Down my soul_

_And I wonder_

_I wonder why you look at me like that_

_What you're thinking_

_What's behind_

_Don't tell me_

_But it feels like love…"_

"'Evergreen'!" Suzie squeals in delight. "West Life!"

Rachel laughs as Santana rolls her eyes.

"You guys are a bad influence on each other," Santana says now. "And that's _not_ a flower, by the way."

Rachel and Suzie laugh. Since Santana and Suzie had moved in with Rachel, Suzie and Rachel had bonded over music, agreeing on Barbara Streisand, Broadway show tunes, classical music and pop songs and sometimes, just to annoy Santana, Rachel and Suzie would play West Life in the car over and over again.

"My turn, my turn!" Suzie squeals now. She puts thumb and forefinger on her nose and starts singing, "_'Let me take you down…'Cause I'm going to…_'"

"'Strawberry Fields Forever'!" Santana says now triumphantly, interrupting Suzie's singing. "By the awesome The Beatles!"

"No fair!" Suzie pouts at the back.

"I'd have guessed it anyway," Santana says now, chuckling. "And that's _not_ a song about flowers by the way, too. Strawberries are fruits. That's cheating."

"Aaaww," Suzie says now, flopping back in the backseat, folding her arms in front of her, pursing her lips in a pout, and knitting her brows in such a way that is so Santana Rachel smiles.

Rachel turns around now and says, "Honey, you want dessert later, after pizza?"

Suzie makes as if she is thinking about it, but from the flicker of excitement that pass through her eyes when Rachel mentions dessert, Rachel already knows the answer to her question. Suzie's eyes are as expressive as Santana's, and it is easy to read what she feels just by looking at them. Santana has had more practice concealing her emotions behind her eyes, but Rachel has had practice reading Santana's emotions, although with her, it is more hit and miss.

* * *

Presently, they arrive at Luigi's, which is only a few blocks from Greenburg Hill Gardens and their apartment. Santana, Rachel and Suzie have visited a few pizza joints in the Brooklyn area, and although they all agree Brooklyn pizza joints are infinitely better than all the "Domino's" in New York combined, Luigi's, they all agree, would have to be the best. Not only because they serve the best pizza, but also because it is small, cozy, quiet and tucked away at the corner and the staff and owner, Luigi and his family, know them and leave them alone during their meals there. They also serve vegetarian pizza, something that Rachel also enjoys. She does not really want a repeat of that time Santana had an argument with one of the managers at one of the pizza joints they had ventured to before because they had served Rachel a non-vegetarian pizza. Rachel was simultaneously horrified and touched that Santana would argue with anyone over getting Rachel's order wrong and had that fleeting thought that _this_ is what Brittany must have enjoyed every day of her life all the way to the end: Santana's complete and utter devotion to the people she loves, right down to their pizza orders. Rachel does not want to have to pull Santana away with great difficulty again, like she did last time, before she and the manager almost came to blows and is glad that they have found a pizza place that caters to all three's unique needs.

After Santana parks the car in front of the restaurant ("Yay! A parking spot!" Santana says excitedly, realizing only a few moments later how pathetic her excitement over a parking spot was.), they all troop inside the restaurant. A bell by the door announces their arrival and the staff, composed of the owner and manager, Luigi, his wife and two grown children, a son and a daughter, all look up and smile at them. The restaurant is simple, not ostentatious, very functional, with round tables that have those seats that snake around the table from one to the other, each table covered by a cubicle and plants. The place is kept immaculately clean, and soft, old music is playing on the stereo. Today, there are only a few customers.

"Hiya!" Suzie says now, to the owner, waving her hand as they make their way to a table by the back, a round table with one long, cushioned seat that goes around the table in a semi-circle and partially covered by a wall and tall plants.

"Hey, hayadooin?" Luigi greets them, grinning as he picks up a couple of menus and follows the group to their table.

Suzie slides in on the seat first. Rachel slides in after and Santana follows her, so that Suzie is on Rachel's right, and Rachel is on Santana's right. Suzie likes sitting beside Rachel and Santana, being left-handed, likes to be at the outer edge of the table, so no one bumps into her arm when she is eating. As Santana's hand and arm instinctively slide to Rachel's waist, Rachel knows this is the other reason she prefers this kind of seating arrangement.

"Good, good," Santana murmurs now, in answer to Luigi.

Rachel smiles up at the man, a small, squat man, only slightly taller than Rachel but with broad shoulders, muscled arms and a broad chest. The beginnings of a paunch protrude from the tight, short-sleeved collared shirt and apron he is wearing. His thick, dark hair is carefully combed back, his appearance neat and clean. His face is tanned and hardened from years of spending too much time in the sun working hard jobs. He had once told them he had worked odd jobs in construction and other jobs before he had started this restaurant with his wife and brother. He is nice and friendly and kind and generates a genuine smile from Rachel whenever she sees him.

"How are you?" Rachel asks now.

Luigi grins widely. "Good, good. Business is okay."

The restaurant is almost empty, but Rachel smiles and nods. "That's great. I think we'll just have the usual."

"Drinks?" Luigi asks.

"Coke!" Suzie says quickly.

Rachel looks at her and Suzie corrects herself and says, "Apple juice."

Rachel nods in approval as Suzie makes a face. Santana laughs.

"I'll have a coke," Santana says.

"Lemon juice," Rachel says. "Dessert, Suzie?"

"Banana split!" Suzie says.

Rachel nods. "And we'll have the apple pie with custard," she says, smiling at Luigi now.

Luigi nods, collects the menus and leaves.

Rachel grows quiet again as Suzie makes to listen to her iPod.

"When the food arrives, kiddo, we keep the iPod away, okay?" Santana says now. Suzie nods.

Santana tugs at Rachel. "You okay, babe?"

Rachel looks at her, smiles tightly, nods and says, "Yeah."

"You sure?" Santana says. "You don't seem…yourself."

Rachel smiles. Of course Santana would notice. She shakes her head. "Let's talk later."

Santana nods and does not push the issue further.

* * *

A few minutes later, in which the three had played a game of coming up with the name of a town, city, a state, a country, starting with the last letter of the word that the last person has uttered, and were busily arguing whether Suzie's answer, "The North Pole", coming after "Brooklyn" which was Santana's answer (Suzie had started with "N", which was the last letter of Brooklyn and therefore came up with "North Pole") would be considered any of the above. Suzie insists it is, whilst Santana, never one to cave in an argument, insists it is not. Rachel just lets them at it, watching, fascinated, as mother and daughter volley back and forth between her.

Thankfully, steaming hot pizza and buffalo wings interrupt their argument, followed by their drinks. Santana and Suzie break off their argument as if the argument never existed and start to dive in.

Rachel gets a slice of pizza and puts it on Suzie's plate, whilst Santana gets a slice from the vegetarian pizza and puts it on Rachel's plate. Every action is done automatically, instinctively, as if they have done this a number of times. Santana then grabs a fork and starts picking out the tomatoes from Rachel's pizza slice. Rachel has said that she finds baked slices of tomato, with their skin all hanging out like that, really weird, and although Santana finds this weird and finds it even weirder that she does not request for Luigi to just take it out, Santana instinctively picks out the slices of tomato and puts them on her own plate. Presently, Rachel puts a slice of pizza on Santana's plate and Santana mumbles a "Thank you", before Rachel grabs a fork and starts picking out the slices of onion on Santana's pizza.

"Hey!" Santana protests, as she watches each slice of onion disappear from her pizza. "I like those. Why are you taking them out?"

"Because they smell and I don't want to be kissing you with onion on your breath," Rachel answers matter-of-factly.

Santana purses her lips, raises an eyebrow and looks at Rachel pointedly.

Rachel stops in the middle of picking out the last onion slice and says, "Hey, _you_ don't have to kiss yourself. I do."

Suzie snickers. "She's right, mom! No one likes onion breath!"

Santana rolls her eyes. "Fine. Whatever."

Rachel also pointedly puts the table napkin on Santana's lap and tells her to put one on her chest as well. Rachel offers the other to Suzie. Santana rolls her eyes as she does so.

"Hey, you don't have to wash off the food stains on your clothes," Rachel points out. "Do you know how long it took me to take out that stain out from your _other_ blouse?"

"Fine, fine," Santana says.

Santana knows she will lose any argument involving anything domestic anyway, so she acquiesces to Rachel. Rachel is the more domestic of the two anyway, and when she has time, or when the housekeeper, who comes twice a week to clean up the apartment and do the laundry, is not around, Rachel does the chores, with help from Suzie, and Santana, when she is around.

* * *

They eat in silence as they finish off the pizza and buffalo wings. Luigi brings in the dessert after, with coffee and tea for Santana and Rachel. Santana and Rachel share the apple pie with the custard cream, while Suzie gleefully rubs her hands together, looking at her dessert lovingly, before she grabs a spoon and attacks her banana split.

Santana cuts a slice of pie and offers the spoonful of pie to Rachel. Rachel grins and allows Santana to feed her the slice of pie. Rachel does the same, takes a spoonful of pie and gives it to Santana. Santana grins. They eat the pie slowly, looking at each other now and then, whilst Suzie, oblivious and only caring for her banana split, enjoys every spoonful of ice cream with much delight.

Presently, Luigi comes by, and asks them, "Everything okay here?"

Rachel breaks away from gazing at Santana, looks up at Luigi as if noticing that he is standing there for the first time and nods vigorously, and Santana does the same. "This is lovely, thank you," Rachel says.

Luigi gives them a wide smile, obviously pleased by their answer.

He stays a few more seconds, looking like he wants to say something, but unsure as to how to say it. Rachel wonders what it is he wants to say, but presently, he suddenly says, a little hesitatingly, as if unsure how they will react, "You make a lovely family."

Rachel beams proudly and Santana grins as well.

"Aaaw, thanks, Luigi," Rachel says, giving him one of her trademark Rachel Berry smiles.

Santana murmurs her assent, a bit embarrassed at the compliment.

"How long have you been married?" he suddenly asks.

"Uh…" Santana says, uncomfortable.

"Half a decade," Rachel supplies quickly, smiling. Whether Luigi has noticed the absence of wedding rings on both their fingers, Rachel does not know or care.

"That's wonderful," he says. His son suddenly comes up with a plate of a small carrot cake. "Here's a cake for you. On the house." He smiles.

Rachel and Suzie beam in delight as the cake is placed before them.

"Thank you, Luigi," Rachel says now, genuinely touched by the gesture.

"Guess I'm a sucker for romance. There's so little of it out there…I guess we gotta treasure what we have…"

He shrugs again, a bit embarrassed at what he has just said, as he smiles and walks away.

The first strain of a song plays as he walks away. Rachel and Santana look at each other, then smile. The song is the Captain and Tennille's "Love Will Keep Us Together".

"You know what this song reminds me of?" Santana suddenly asks.

"What?" Rachel says.

"That opening sequence in that Kirsten Dunst movie, 'Get Over It'," Santana says, referring to the one of the high school movies they had marathoned a few months back in preparation for Rachel teaching in Brooklyn.

Rachel laughs. "Geek!"

Santana laughs as well.

As they listen to the song, they both start bobbing their heads, and swaying their bodies. Santana raises her left hand, spoon still in hand, swaying her arm around. Santana starts mouthing the first lines,

"_Love, love will keep us together_

_Think of me babe whenever_

_Some sweet talking girl comes along…"_

Santana then whisper-sings the next couple of lines to Rachel, eliciting a grin from the other woman.

"_Singing a song_

_Don't mess around_

_You just gotta be strong…"_

Then Rachel joins in and they sing the next ones in their normal voices,

"_Just stop 'cause I really love you_

_Stop I been thinking of you_

_Look in my heart and _

_Let love keep us together…_"

Rachel and Santana's voice trail off as they smile at each other. A comfortable, contented silence sits between the two of them.

They let the song play as they resume eating their dessert.

* * *

Later, after they drop off Suzie at Kate's house, with very specific instructions for Suzie to behave in front of Kate so as to maintain her visiting privileges with the girl, they realize they need not have worried. It would seem that Kate adores Suzie as well, judging by the fact that they see Kate by the window one minute, and out the door the next, excited to see Suzie, and practically off like a shot even before Santana has parked the car in front of Kate's apartment.

Suzie is out of the car before either woman can say goodbye, and Santana shakes her head as she pulls the emergency break down again, but just before she backs the car out, they hear a tap on Rachel's window and when Rachel rolls the window down, Suzie is leaning over, all cold and shivering and saying, "I'll see you later! Love you guys!" before she reaches over and hugs Rachel awkwardly. She then steps back and waves.

"Love you, too, kiddo," Santana says and Rachel does the same. "Pick you up later, mkay?"

"Okay!" Suzie says, beaming.

The two women wave back as Santana backs out of the street.

* * *

Minutes later, Rachel and Santana find themselves by the empty lot, where Santana had taught Rachel how to drive. Rachel had wondered at first why Santana was not driving them home, but when she stops the car, kills the engine, put the emergency brake up, leans back and turns to face Rachel, saying, "Alright, out with it. What's wrong? You've kind of been acting weird this whole time. You okay?"

Rachel is quiet at first, listening instead to Counting Crows' "Ghost in You" playing softly on the car stereo instead.

"_Inside you the time moves and she don't fade  
The ghost in you she don't fade  
Inside you the time moves and she don't fade away  
Don't you know she don't fade…" _

Santana patiently waits for Rachel to say something. When she realizes that none may be forthcoming, she settles back on her seat, makes to turn the engine on again and says, "Ooookay. That's fine. Was just wondering, is all."

Rachel leans to touch Santana's elbow and Santana stops and looks at her. "You okay, baby?" she asks Rachel now.

Rachel shakes her head now, and before she knows it, she has told Santana about Kenyatta and her problem.

A few minutes later, Santana sits silently beside Rachel, listening intently, nodding every once in a while, asking a question now and then to clarify, or to verify something, asking if Rachel is sure, if the student is sure about her decisions. Santana's face is serious and searching as she looks at Rachel. When Rachel finishes, she feels relieved, feeling her chest feel lighter after telling Santana this.

Santana remains silent, taking it all in. Rachel can almost literally see Santana's brain grind, can see her thought processes at work, whizzing around in her head, trying to figure out what Rachel has just said.

"What are you going to do now?" Santana asks softly now.

Rachel shrugs. "To tell you the truth…I don't know really. I mean, the student told me this in confidence, and I don't know if I can and should break that trust, you know? But I feel like I should tell someone about this, too, like her parents or something…I mean, I don't think they know…but I don't know!"

"Well, she's a minor," Santana points out now. "And you're her teacher and you do have a certain degree of responsibility for her."

Rachel nods, listening to her.

"I mean, I get that she said this in confidence. And she told you this because she trusts you with it," Santana says thoughtfully now, "But it could be a cry for help, too. Like she wants you to tell her family what she's too afraid to tell them herself. Plus, if something happens to her…when all this is going on…"

Rachel makes a strangled noise. "I don't know what to do, honey. I don't want to betray her trust, but I also don't want anything happening to her."

"But baby, you're not her_ friend_, you're her _teacher_," Santana points out. "I get why she wants to do this, but if her family doesn't know…and something happens to her…what then?"

"You're right, of course," Rachel says. "Damn you, you're always right!"

Santana smiles. Rachel is silent, thinking.

"Okay, what if I talk to Kenyatta again?" Rachel asks her now. Santana is silent, listening, as Rachel continues, "What if I talk to her and tell her to tell her family? And I tell her, if she doesn't tell her family, then _I_ will."

Santana is silent, weighing in what Rachel has just said. After much thought, Santana nods her head and says, "That might work. You can try and see how it goes."

Rachel nods back.

"Okay?" Santana says.

Rachel smiles, nodding. "Okay."

Santana moves back to get comfortable in her seat, moves to start the engine and as she starts the engine, puts the emergency break down, she asks Rachel, "Where to now?"

Rachel grins now. "Home."

"Home it is," Santana says, as she starts to back out of the empty lot.

"And honey…?" Rachel says, tentatively.

"What?" Santana says, head turned back as she backs out of the lot, making sure the car backs out of the lot safely.

"Thanks."

The car stops now, engine purring, as Santana looks at her, and smiles, "You're welcome."

As she turns the car now, shifts gears and guns the engine, Santana's right hand seeks and finds Rachel's hand and she twines her fingers with Rachel's, Santana says, "It's going to be alright, okay?"

Rachel nods her head.

* * *

Rachel and Santana spend the rest of the Saturday afternoon in their room, just lying on their bed, talking, Santana on her back, hands behind her head, looking up at the ceiling, Rachel on her side, her head resting on her right hand, her left hand on Santana's stomach, as they catch up on each other's work. The mid-afternoon light from their window gives their room a soft brightness that Rachel likes. Outside, leaves fall from the trees as autumn holds the world in its grip. An autumn breeze makes the branches outside their window quiver and sway.

Santana is recounting now how she had left work early, because she "had to get out of there". Illegal immigrants obviously have no legal status, she says, and thus are one of the more vulnerable members of the population, often abused and taken advantage of by partners, employers and companies looking to exploit their status. Her African client is feeling the pressure, especially the past few months, as conservatives take to the media and any means possible to attack illegal immigration as a perennial problem that needs to be resolved once and for all. This means her client is being forced to think of ways to deal with her status and this has been a point of disagreement with Santana, the client and Miranda. They had a long argument about it this morning, and it had ended in a stalemate. Santana had decided she had had enough for the day and had thus decided to leave the office early. As always Santana manages to be simultaneously specific and vague at the same time, ensuring that the case still remains confidential while still satisfying Rachel's characteristic curiosity.

Rachel, in turn, recounts the practice at the gym today, the dancing, the teasing that she got from her students while they were dancing, the always lengthy discussion on the set list, Baz and Suzie bonding over, now Rachel realizes, music and dancing and Kenyatta's revelation

Santana laughs when Rachel tells her about the students merciless teasing of her dancing and says, "Aaaaw, baby, if I'd known all it took to bring you down in high school was a bunch of Brooklyn kids, I'd have done that and gotten _all_ the solos!"

Rachel rolls her eyes and says, "So not looking forward to driving them to the elimination in that stupid van."

Santana laughs and turns her head. "We should really buy you a new car or something."

Rachel makes a face. "God, that means I'll be forced to drive _every day_. I don't think I was meant to drive."

Santana chuckles.

"Besides, can we afford it?" Rachel asks now. "I mean, what with rent and bills and Suzie and everything else…"

"Yeah, I know," Santana says now, face suddenly all serious.

Rachel smiles. "I could help more, you know."

Santana smiles. "Baby, you help enough. It's okay."

Rachel smiles back. There is a silence that passes between them as they just gaze at each other.

"So when you were texting me, you were actually out of the office already?" Rachel asks now.

"Yep," Santana answers. "If I'd left later, I don't think I'd have made it in time to pick you up. Plus I had to pick up the symbolic vaginas."

Rachel laughs. She is silent as she rubs Santana's stomach over her blouse. "So that's _your_ favorite part of my anatomy?"

Santana turns now, looks at Rachel and shifts her body so that she is facing Rachel. "Hmmm," she hums in assent.

Rachel makes a face, snorts and teasingly says, "I thought you loved me for my _mind_."

Santana laughs and teasingly says, "No, not really. I'm a very shallow person. I love your tits and ass. Well, more your ass really, than your tits, as you have no tits to speak of."

Rachel playfully hits Santana's arm. "Gross, San. Must you be that crude?"

"Ow," Santana says, mock hurt in her tone.

"Take that back. Unless you want to spend the night on the couch...?" Rachel says now, jokingly, referring to those times during their disagreements when Santana is relegated to sleeping on the sofa for the night.

"Okay, okay, I'm kidding! I take it back!" Santana says, laughing.

Rachel laughs and Santana grins, moving over to trace a finger on Rachel's nose, then her cheek and her jaw, before resting her finger on Rachel's lips. Rachel grows serious now, looks at her, and kisses Santana's finger. Santana moves even closer, places her hand on Rachel's hip and pulls her closer. Rachel slides closer and as she does, Santana moves towards her, meets Rachel's lips in a soft, deep kiss that sends a jolt into Rachel's being. Rachel kisses her back softly, tenderly.

They kiss for what seems like forever, before Santana breaks away, clears her throat and says, "Babe…"

"Yeah?" Rachel murmurs, looking up at Santana.

"I have to tell you something…"

"What?"

"You know we talked about going to Lima together when Suzie's school break starts? I try to go on leave so we can spend Christmas break together and stuff?" Santana says now.

"Yeah?" Rachel says, growing suspicious.

"Remember that LGBT Human Rights conference organized by IGHLRC I was telling you about? The one that's going to be held in San Francisco? Just before Christmas?"

Rachel _does_ know. Santana had come home excited about the conference and saddened that she could not go. The conference was supposedly the biggest event of the year, and is the biggest gathering of lawyers, LGBT and human rights activists, academics, researchers and LGBT supporters (including liberal politicians) and comes at a time when a lot of major events are being observed as well: World AIDS Day, World Lesbian Day, Human Rights Day and 16 Days to End Gender Violence. The thought of being able to join other like-minded people had filled Santana with excitement.

"Well, my boss was supposed to give a talk on current trends in LGBT and human rights and immigration law here," Santana says, carefully now.

"Yeah? And…?" Rachel wonders what Santana's point is.

"Well, something came up," Santana says, hesitating, "And my boss can't make it and I have to give the talk instead."

"Okay. That's great, right?"

"Yeah. The conference will be held on the day of Suzie's Christmas program though," Santana says now, dropping her gaze. "And it's going to continue all the way to the time when we're supposed to go home together to Lima…"

Rachel is silent. "You're going to miss Suzie's presentation."

Santana cannot meet her eyes as she says, softly now, "I know."

"And she's been working hard on her top-secret presentation and was looking forward to showing it to us," Rachel points out.

Rachel looks at her carefully now as Santana sighs and says, "I kind of can't come with you guys to Lima either…And my boss kind of gave me some more paperwork so I kind of…need to work, I think, on the holidays…I'll have to stay behind. Have some work I need to finish."

"Oh…"

"Yeah," Santana says.

Rachel is silent for a few moments, before she asks, "Are you going alone?"

"Well…" Santana says now, hesitantly. "Someone else from the firm is coming with me to the conference, too."

"Who?"

"Miranda Vanderbilt…"

* * *

_**Author's end notes:**_

_**Thanks for reading! As always, I look forward to your kind, thoughtful reviews and always appreciate every single one of them. Many thanks for sticking with me thus far. :)**_

_**To kutee – Re: Kids during Abrams' observation, Suzie and the Glee club, Rachel and Santana's texts to Suzie and Mrs. Lopez – glad it made you laugh while you were at the library! :) Had a great time writing it! RE: Did she send it to anyone else on her phone list? – Hmmm…we'll just have to see, :) RE: Kenyatta – You'll just have to see in the next few chapters :) Re: Invictus – Yes, I've always loved the poem, I have seen the film, I love Africa :) Knew I just had to include it. Glad you liked its inclusion in this story! Re: A Taste of Honey version of "Sukiyaki" – I must check that out! Thanks for recommending. I am more familiar with the 4PM version and the original Japanese version as I have Japanese friends and acquaintances. Thanks for reading!**_

_**To Parker88 – Re: Hilarious Chapter 13, Mythology-LOTR class discussions, Rachel and Santana sexting, scarring Suzie for life – Awesome! Glad it entertained you! 'Cause I loved writing it! :-) Re: Rachel's reaction to Kenya's bomb – Hope this chapter answered that! As always, many thanks for reading!**_

_**To MelovePezberry – Re: Baz as Brittany – hahaha! Brittany lives! Yay! :) Re: Baz and Suzie – they're probably a bad influence to each other, hahaha! Re: Ruth – You have to stick around to find out :) Re: Rachel dealing with real life – yes, I wanted to strike a balance as Rachel is STILL teaching in Brooklyn after all. Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!**_

_**To CarolineSC – Thanks for reading! ;)**_

_**To SoFlaComet Re: Those kids cracking you up – Glad they can crack you up, as I do work hard to get the funny right! ;) And you're welcome!**_

_**To DragonsWillFly - Many thanks for going over this chapter and for useful insights. Cheers and happy birthday! **_**;) **

_**Songs featured during this chapter:**_

_**"High and Dry" by Radiohead**_

_**"I'm Just Gonna Love You a Little More Baby" by Barry White**_

_**"Kiss from a Rose" by Seal**_

_**"Fading Like a Flower" by Roxette**_

_**"Evergreen" by WestLife**_

_**"Strawberry Fields Forever" by The Beatles**_

_**"Love Will Keep Us Together" by The Captain and Tennille**_

_**"Ghost In You" by Counting Crows**_


	15. It Will Rain

_**Author's note: Dear readers, Chapter 15 is up. Warning: this contains angst and thus may induce some very strong feelings, so brace yourself. Okay, you've been warned. Read at your own risk. **_**:)**

* * *

It is interesting how a name could ruin a perfectly good afternoon spent with her family.

This is what Rachel thinks now as she stands in the middle of their bedroom, finding herself in an argument that seems to be escalating to something more, with Santana on the other side of the room, the bed standing in the middle of them.

"I don't get what the big deal is," Santana says now, "I have to go, I'm representing my _boss_, my _firm_, I couldn't just say _no. _ Plus I'm representing a client whose case might well be a landmark case for LGBT and human rights and immigration."

"Yeah, I get that," Rachel says, impatiently, "But couldn't they have sent someone else instead? They're always giving you so much _work_. I mean, come on, you're _always_ busy."

"I know, I'm sorry," Santana replies, softly, helplessly.

"And we'd planned to all go home together. Are you even going to be home for our anniversary?"

The unmistakable "Oh, shit" look on Santana's face clearly indicates to Rachel that she has forgotten about their anniversary, too.

"Baby, I'm sorry," Santana quietly says, sufficiently recovering from realizing she has forgotten their anniversary. "I'll totally make it up to you."

"You _always_ say that," Rachel states now, matter-of-factly, folding her arms in front of her and looking at Santana pointedly. She knows she needs to stop, but she cannot stop the irritation, the annoyance that is begging to be let out. "I mean you even managed to bring work home on _Thanksgiving_."

"I'll totally make it up to you this time, though," Santana says now, "I promise."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Yes, like you promised all the other times that you'll totally make it up to me?"

"What's the big deal? You're Jewish, you don't even _celebrate_ Christmas," Santana says now. "And I don't understand, you're busy with work, too. Lately it's all I ever hear about. Your kids. Your Glee Club. Your stupid classes. Whatever."

"As opposed to you _not_ telling me anything?"

"Rachel, you know what my work is like. Half of the time we have to deal with sensitive, delicate cases…"

"And you think my classes are _stupid_? You don't consider what I'm doing work?"

"I didn't say that."

"What, just because you're a hotshot lawyer now and I'm just a high school teacher…"

"God, Rachel, you're getting this all wrong! Where is this all coming from? I think what this is, is just you being jealous again of Miranda."

"Yeah, because you get to spend time with her more than we do."

Santana sighs now, puts her hands on her waist, and arms akimbo, moves a bit nearer to Rachel. Her voice though is surprisingly even and gentle as she patiently explains things to Rachel. "We've been through this before, Rach. I've said it before, I'll say it again, there's nothing, absolutely nothing going on between Miranda and me. And if you don't believe me, well, fine. Believe what you want. But I am not going to have this conversation over and over again, Rach. You either trust me or you don't."

And this is the problem, Rachel knows. Because she genuinely, truly loves Santana but like everyone who is truly, madly, deeply in love with someone, Rachel is afflicted with doubts and fears and insecurities, and being in love with Santana sometimes feels like being perpetually on the edge of a precipice, always feeling like she might lose her footing and plummet down an endless ravine any minute with no hope of rescue or survival. Especially when the woman who may or may not suddenly threaten her precarious happiness happens to look a bit like Brittany.

She knows she should not bring it up, knows she should not have, but it is out of her mouth before she can stop herself.

"Don't you think it's a bit strange that Miranda is blonde and pretty and tall and looks eerily like Brittany?" she asks now.

Santana stares at her, with disbelief on her face, jaw dropping open, as if she cannot believe how ridiculous Rachel is being now. From the look on Santana's face, she is struggling to understand what Rachel is saying, but Rachel also catches a dark look pass through Santana's eyes and she thinks she may have gone too far. There is so much unsaid in that one question that Rachel immediately regrets saying it the minute it comes out of her mouth.

But it is too late for that. She can see Santana struggling. Santana tries to speak, but she stops, takes a moment, takes deep breaths. Rachel can see she is trying to quell the irritation, the rising anger down her gut.

"I can't believe you, Rachel," Santana says, disappointment, frustration, disbelief evident in her voice.

There is a long silence.

Santana tries to speak again, but Rachel can see that she cannot.

"I'm sorry," Rachel quickly says.

"I'm trying, Rach," Santana speaks now. She stops. "I'm really trying…I just…"

"I…I'm sorry," Rachel repeats the words, but they seem empty somehow.

"I mean, fuck, Rachel, I came home early today!" Santana says now, voice tight, controlled. "I took you guys out for pizza! What am I doing wrong? Nothing I do is ever enough for you, is it? It's never enough. And after all this time, Rachel, you think I would _cheat_ on you?"

"It's not…I'm not…" Rachel swallows, feels something like dread, anxiety, _fear_ descend on her being, like if they continue on this path they are going on now, they will probably regret what will happen next. But it is something that has been at the back of her mind. Sex was not dating, Santana had said once, a long time ago, and though she knows that Santana's more fluid definition of relationships, intimacy, commitment has changed since high school, she cannot help but feel that it is still how she views relationships until now. After all, Santana had slept with Puck whilst she was still sleeping with Brittany. Had continued to sleep with Brittany whilst Brittany was dating Artie. Had slept with Finn when things were not working out between him and Rachel. And she had slept with Rachel freshman year in college when she was already practically engaged to Brittany. No, she cannot help it. At the back of her mind, there is that fear, that maybe she is not enough, that maybe for Santana, it had always been Brittany, always, and now, she has just settled because Rachel just happened to be there. And one day, someday, Rachel thought, maybe if she found someone like Brittany again, she would leave Rachel like a shot. Sometimes she even wonders if Santana would have even _given_ her the light of day had Brittany not passed away.

Rachel had never been first choice for anything, especially in relationships. She was Finn's second choice when he broke up with Quinn, she was Puck's second choice after Quinn had turned him down, was her ex-husband's second choice when his supermodel girlfriend had run off with a Spanish soccer star from Real Madrid. The reason she was who she was in the McKinley High Glee Club, and later on, on Broadway, always determined to snag every solo available, was because it was the only thing she could control – the singing, the solos, the music. She could be first in singing. She could be a star. She did not have to settle for being second fiddle, second choice. She had talent and she could keep it and she knew it could take her places. But lately though, as she grew older, especially after her surgery, even that certainty has changed. And as newer talents came, she has found herself being relegated to playing the mother, or the aunt or any of the older characters in a story, which meant she sang less, too. This was especially hard for her, to confront herself about a dream that she built her whole life around, to have to face the fact that she may have to start looking for new dreams to replace the old ones. But being with Santana, that made it easier, because Santana never judged, never told her who she should be, never tried to make her anything than who she is now, Rachel Berry, talented former ingénue and Broadway star, now high school teacher and Glee Club adviser. It terrifies her now to realize that Santana, Santana has become such an essential part of her life, her _being_, that to consider even living a life without Santana Lopez would be unthinkable.

She wants so much to say all these things, because she loves Santana and would like to think that maybe she would have had a chance with Santana, even if Brittany had lived. She has never raised these issues with Santana, has tried to, once or twice earlier on, but it never seemed like the right time, or it just seemed awkward or too trivial or shallow. And the first three years of their long distance relationship had been difficult enough as it was. It just seemed prudent to not bring it up at all. So she just pushed the thoughts, the doubts, the fears, at the back of her mind. Now she finds these same thoughts back with a vengeance, sparked by the presence of someone who looked like Brittany.

She just wants to dream really, to hope, to believe that maybe with Santana she can be first choice for once, because her new dreams now lay with Santana, being with Santana, building a whole new life with Santana and Suzie. But she is afraid, really afraid, about how Santana would react. Is afraid of what Santana would say, that she would confirm what Rachel sometimes fears – that she just wants everything too much. Wants Santana and this life they have built together, too much.

"Do you know what I've had to give up to be with you?" Santana asks now, interrupting her thoughts, interrupting the silence, her breathing heavy, voice low, like she is trying to control herself.

Rachel should have stopped then, should have just called a truce, but she cannot help herself. It is self-preservation she thinks, this instinctive need to say something hurtful back because in the grand scheme of things, humans are still humans, slaves to their nature, to their instincts.

"What, and you think I didn't give up anything to be with you?!" she asks now, "You think it was easy for me?"

"Nobody forced you to leave your fucking successful Broadway career to go live with a single mom and her kid!" Santana says. "Nobody forced you to do anything! Fuck!"

Santana is angry now.

Rachel is suddenly surprised and confused as to why Santana would suddenly be angry all of a sudden. Rachel's heart is pounding hard against her ribcage.

They are silent for what seems like forever.

Then Santana speaks.

"I've got to get out of here."

She says it so flatly, so emotionlessly, that it makes Rachel even more afraid. Her heart seizes as Santana turns and storms out of the room.

Santana is out the door before Rachel can say anything. She hears the bedroom door slam so hard against the door frame she jumps up in surprise, hears Santana's angry footsteps recede down the hallway, and down the stairs, hears her go down the stairs, hears the front door slam. A few minutes later, she hears the car down the apartment, hears it careen down the street furiously, leaving thunder and lightning in her wake.

Rachel slowly sits down on the edge of the bed, suddenly numb, unable to feel anything.

She puts her hands on her face and starts to cry.

* * *

Rachel is alone the whole afternoon. Suzie has called her to inform her that she is spending the night at Kate's. After promising she would behave and will refrain from putting the moves on Kate, and that she has done all her homework, Rachel allows her to have her sleepover. She promises to feed Kurt for her.

The house is eerily quiet. She tries to watch television, but finds she cannot stand the plethora of reality shows that populate the small screen. She finds watching Paris Hilton, the Kardashians and Snooki repulsive and unbelievably in bad taste, to say the least. She finds herself turning off the television and heading off to the bedroom. She tries to read the book "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime" and although she enjoys the math, she quickly grows restless and finds herself tossing the book on the bed and just flopping down on the bed, sighing, staring up at the ceiling. She can hear the ticking of the clock, the rustle of leaves outside, the beginnings of a heavy rain pounding against the glass of the window, with some thunder and rain. She wonders where Santana is, is worried she is driving at full speed in this weather, worries she has skidded to a ditch somewhere, hopes she is not at some bar drinking her anger away, or worse, is with Miranda, discussing the more salient points of their relationship. She wants to take it back, take it all back, just so she could have a moment with Santana now. They have had arguments before, and one distinctive feature of their relationship is that they argue over a lot of things. She is never one to back down in an argument. Santana is the same. And although they have had more terrible arguments in the past, the fact of the matter is that at the end of the day, they always made up. Always. And if it got really bad, and Santana had to leave to cool off, Santana always, _always_ came home. Over the years, they had learned to meet half-way, to negotiate, to give way to each other and having started out with a long distance relationship, they had learned to pick their battles with each other, learned to ignore trivial things, learned not to sweat the small stuff and never let an argument stretch out too long. No matter how angry each one felt, they would always try to overcome that to declare a truce, to make peace.

Rachel worries now. Worries Santana might not come back. There have been times in the past when Santana had stormed off in anger, drive away, only to come back at the end of the day, quiet, spent, the anger all gone…Santana had always had a temper, and it was a temper that had been directed one too many times at a lot of people in high school. Santana had been in physical fights in school, had had that fight with Quinn over her summer surgery, a fight with Lauren Zizes and Mercedes over Puck, but she had never, not once, actually had never actually hurt the people she cared for. It sometimes feels like Santana is two different people: the public Santana and the private Santana, the Santana who is sweet and kind and loving and caring.

Time. This is what she knows Santana needs. So she does not call or text her now, does not want to be considered a full-on, nagging wife, although she is dying to do so.

But six o'clock comes and the house is still empty. Santana still has not come home. The rain is falling heavily now, and her worry has escalated to such an extent that she is imagining terrible things. She still resists the urge to grab her cellphone and call Santana. What she does, instead, is turn on all the lights in the house in the growing autumn dusk and feeds Kurt. She starts making food on the kitchen counter. She has no appetite really, but just for something to do, she starts a salad. She finds the quiet unbearable and turns on the radio just to fill the emptiness with sound. She finds a station that is not as obnoxious or as annoying as the others, and she is grateful it only plays adult contemporary songs, ballads.

Presently, she catches the DJ identifying the song as "It Will Rain" by Bruno Mars.

"_If you ever leave me, baby,_

_Leave some morphine at my door _

'_Cause it would take a whole lot of medication_

_To realize what we used to have,_

_We don't have it anymore…"__  
__  
_She stops, listens to the first part of the song, and finds she quite likes it. It fits her mood, her anxiety and in the middle of the song she finds her eyes welling up with tears again.

_What's wrong with you, Rachel?_ She asks herself. _Get a grip_, she commands herself. _It's a fight, it's a misunderstanding, it's not the end of the world_, she tells herself.

And yet it feels like it is.

She wipes her eyes with her fingers and resumes making her salad.

* * *

She is half-way through her salad when she decides to throw it all away. She has difficulty swallowing the lettuce, the bell pepper, the cucumber, finds them tasteless somehow, finds she cannot swallow them for the lump in her throat that refuses to go away. She shoves her plate away, resists the urge to grab the plate and fling it against the wall.

She instead chucks the contents of her salad in the bin and heads to the living room, sits on the couch, in the dark, watching the rain on the window make veiny splashes against the glass.

She finds herself on the couch, with the television on, tuned in to the Channel V music channel, the volume down low, but audible enough for her to hear it, letting the images just pass by the periphery of her vision as she tries to sleep.

* * *

Rachel dreams.

She dreams she is in McKinley High. She is wearing her trademark short, plaid skirt, knee high white socks, knitted sweater with a deer print on it over a long-sleeved blouse. She finds herself walking down the hallway, slowly, like her feet are made of lead, random students jostling and pushing and bumping into her. The hallway is full, crowded, impassable. She recognizes Mr. Schuester, Ms. Pillsbury, Coach Sue, Coach Tanaka and Principal Figgins, the football jocks, the hockey jocks, the Cheerios, the Glee Club kids, random students. Everyone seems to be pointedly ignoring her.

She is supposed to be at Glee Club practice, wants to scream, to make people let her through, but she cannot seem to speak and they keep pushing and pushing and pushing her back to the end of the hallway and then she finds herself alone, and suddenly she sees Santana at the other end, in a flowing, satin, dress that flows down her body. Her heart seizes. She smiles. Santana ignores her though, like she does not exist, turns her head to the side, holds out her hand and a hand from out of nowhere appears, grips, twines Santana's hand in hers. A wrist and an arm and a whole body slowly materializes beside Santana, in the same flowing white dress, and Rachel looks and she sees that it is Brittany. Brittany smiling and pretty and tall. She looks like an angel. The look of joy on Santana's face is unmistakable. So is the pain that Rachel now feels. Rachel has forgotten how lovely Brittany was. As she watches, large, white feathery, _majestic_ angel wings suddenly appear from Santana's and Brittany's back and they suddenly begin to float down the hallway, pinky fingers linked together and a nameless tune suddenly plays and smoke appears out of nowhere and the scene reminds Rachel so much of that horrid video she made with Finn, Puck and Jesse sophomore year that she cringes, wants to run away. But she is rooted to the spot, paralyzed and she is curious at what will happen next. Suddenly Brittany's face changes and she finds herself looking at Puck, then Finn then finally Miranda. Rachel is confused and tries to move but finds she cannot.

She turns. She suddenly finds herself in the McKinley gym. There is a program or a game, she does not know, but the crowd, every so often, explodes in cheers and screams, stamping their feet, clapping their hands, doing wolf whistles and chants. But she cannot see what is going on because there are a lot of taller, bigger students crowding around her but she pushes and the crowd parts and suddenly she sees Santana, in her Cheerios uniform, smiling and dancing and singing with the other Cheerios, Coach Sue egging them on with her bullhorn. Then as she watches, the other Cheerios recede and Santana and Brittany come forward and dance "I Say A Little Prayer" and Brittany suddenly stops dancing, grabs Santana, spins her around and kisses her. And then Brittany goes down on one knee and offers Santana a ring. And then Brittany morphs into Miranda and Rachel has to look away.

She makes for the nearest exit, achingly slowly, like she is wading through water and then she sees Brittany and Santana on the McKinley track and field grounds, sitting on stools, singing Dixie Chicks' cover of "Landslide" to Jamal, one of her Brooklyn Beatz students, strumming the guitar. For some inexplicable reason, the London Eye and Big Ben are just behind Santana and Brittany. She has to blink to make sure it is really them singing, and she tries to move closer to get a closer look, but a group of football players slowly run across her field of vision and she blinks and they are no longer there and the field is empty.

She runs, sluggishly, to the edge of the field, looks both ways, wonders where people are, sees a door, tries to rush to it, but her feet still feel like lead, and she cannot run fast enough. She reaches for the doorknob, turns it and finds herself at Breadstix, with the Brooklyn Beatz singing "It's So Hard to Say Goodbye to Yesterday".

"_How do I say goodbye to what we had?__  
__The good times that made us laugh__  
__Outweigh the bad…__"_

Except this Breadstix reminds her of the Taft High basement where she used to practice with her Brooklyn kids. The appearance of Willard and Ben just beyond the stage confirms her suspicions. The Breadstix decorations reminds her of that one time all the McKinley Glee kids had celebrated Valentine's there and she looks and sees the massive carved ice swan and realizes that it _is_ the very same Valentine's Day celebrations. She can see Finn doing his monumental bad dancing in front of the gigantic ice swan sculpture, out of sync with the song, and the scene.

"_I thought we'd get to see forever__  
__But forever's gone away__  
__It's so hard to say goodbye to yesterday…"_

She does not want to be here, does not want to see this, but sure enough, Santana predictably appears in front, near the stage, dancing with Brittany. And before she knows it, Brittany has Santana in her arms, in a long, deep, passionate kiss. Rachel tries to look away but she is transfixed. The kiss seems to go on forever, in slow motion, as confetti fall slowly around them. Mercifully Rachel finds she can turn and she walks to the nearest exit door out of Breadstix as everyone cheers in slow motion.

She holds the door knob, turns it and finds herself onstage, on Broadway, and she knows this because she has been on many stages on many different theaters on Broadway, but she is not alone, and she looks and the stage is McKinley's hallway and the Glee Club kids are there, and one of them is holding the trophy they won from Nationals, and everyone is throwing confetti at them and she sees Santana grabbing Brittany and giving her a kiss.

Rachel wants to scream now, but she finds she has no mouth. She has no mouth and she must scream.

_Wake up, Rachel_, she says herself. _Wake up, wake up, wake _up_!_

And then, for some strange reason, Santana, Brittany, the Glee Club kids recede, disappear from the stage and everything grows dark and the voice of Amy Winehouse starts singing, "Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow".

"_Tonight you're mine completely_

_You give your love so sweetly_

_Tonight the light of love is in your eyes_

_But will you still love me tomorrow….?"_

Midway through the first stanza of the song, the voice changes, becomes Santana's and through the darkness, a slice of light appears, becomes a spotlight, trained on the stage, where Santana suddenly is standing, microphone in hand, looking like she used to in high school, singing the song to no one…

And the music disappears, but Santana continues to sing the rest of the song, her voice echoing in the now empty space, each word magnified, each word ringing in Rachel's ears.

"_Will you still love me tomorrow….?"_

As she sits on one of the chairs, Rachel finds herself crying, whilst she looks at Santana singing, oblivious to her, on the stage… then she fades and all Rachel can hear is her disembodied voice echoing _"Will you still love me tomorrow….?"_ and the ground begins to shake and quiver as she hears a voice saying,

"Rachel…? Rachel…?"

* * *

Rachel wakes up to Santana's face near her, shaking her, voice calling out her name, as an old Amy Winehouse video plays her cover of "Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow" on television.

"Rachel, you okay?" Santana says now, worry and concern on her face.

Rachel is at first disoriented, as she blinks once, twice, wondering where she is, wondering if this is still a dream, but Santana's face near her, her breath, her nearness, feels real and she looks at her, blinks some more and at first cannot find her voice.

"Huh?" she manages to croak out, groggy and still confused.

"You were making those weird noises again, like you were having a nightmare or something," Santana says, "You okay?"

Once the grogginess wears off a bit, and the realization sets in, that Santana is back, _has_ come back, a flood of relief comes rushing through Rachel and she manages to nod her head.

Santana sighs. "Good. I was worried there for a second."

Rachel can only nod her head again, puts her hand on her face, rubs her eyes, realizes she has been crying in her sleep, is embarrassed. She makes to get up. Santana lets her, as she gets up herself and sits on the edge of the table in front of the couch, facing Rachel, looking at Rachel intently.

They are silent for what seems like hours, just staring at each other, before Santana clears her throat and says, "I'm sorry."

Rachel is quiet for a few seconds, before she says, "I'm sorry, too."

They sit there awkwardly, in the dark, the glow of the television screen making ghostly shadows on the wall.

"I shouldn't have..." Santana stops, sighs and starts again, "Said those things. I was a jerk. I'm sorry."

"No, no," Rachel says now, "It's okay. I was a jerk, too. I shouldn't have…" Rachel does not know what to say. She is suddenly overwhelmed with feelings. She wants to say so much, but cannot find the right words to say what she really feels. And she is tired and sleepy and has cried herself to sleep and does not really want to think anymore, is just relieved Santana came back. "Shouldn't have said those things, too."

Santana nods. "I mean…your work matters. I know that. You know I support you all the way…and…I know how much you love Christmas…and stuff…and…about Miranda…"

Rachel shakes her head. "No, no, it's fine..."

Of course, it is not fine, Rachel knows this, but she does not want another argument.

"I mean, Brittany…" Santana says now, stops, swallows, grows silent. It is interesting, Rachel notes, how Santana, human rights lawyer and resident bad ass of Lima, Ohio, and Brooklyn, New York, is now rendered speechless. And this is what Rachel wants to understand sometimes. How articulate, intelligent Santana who can write dissertations and briefs and pages and pages of words on human rights and environmental law and about corporations and evil empires can sometimes be rendered speechless by the things that actually _matter_.

But Rachel nods, tries to encourage Santana, but really does not want Santana to go on. Does not want to hear what Santana has to say.

"Brittany…what we had…Brittany and I…that was different…" Santana says. "And I don't…I can't…it's just…" Santana stops, sighs for what seems like the nth time. "I mean I have a twenty four hour, little eighty pound blonde reminder of Brittany every day. I can't just…turn that off Rachel. But I'm not comparing you to her. And Miranda…I don't know why you'd think what you were thinking. I don't…I'm _not_…"

"It's okay, San," Rachel says now, interrupting her, wanting her to stop.

"I mean…" Santana sighs now, at a loss for words. "I want to explain…but…"

She does not really need to, Rachel knows. Brittany was special, Rachel knows. Brittany will always be special. Brittany meant so much more to Santana than anyone else in the world, and that is the problem really, because though Rachel knows Santana has moved on, it sometimes feels, still, like there is a ghost, a memory of a past life hovering on the edges of their life.

"Rach," Santana says now, pleading. "Let's not…"

"San, please don't…"

"Okay, okay…"

"Yeah…"

They grow silent.

The silence stretches for what seems like forever.

All they can hear is the ticking of the clock. The rush of the late autumn breeze outside, swaying branches and fallen leaves against the wind. The occasional car rushing down the street. A random dog barking. A couple of random drunken voices talking down the street.

Rachel swallows. Has been wanting to ask this question for a while now, and she blurts it out before she can stop herself.

"If Brittany hadn't… " Rachel blurts it out now, "And we hadn't…would we have…?"

The look on Santana's face indicates she has understood what Rachel is trying to say and understands it so clearly that for some strange reason, she has this look on her face like she is saying, "So _this_ is what this is all about…"

Santana though does not know what to say. "Rachel…" she says now. "Let's not…I don't want to answer that…Okay? I don't know _how_ to answer that. I don't know. I don't _know_. And it doesn't matter now anyway, okay?"

Santana looks like she is stricken, struggling, confused, seems afraid that whatever answer she will give will prove to be the wrong one.

Rachel thinks she has heard enough so she shakes her head slowly and says, "It's okay, San. It's late. I realize we need to talk, but maybe we should just declare a truce now and just go to sleep."

Santana looks at her for a second, nods and comes up to her now and holds her. Rachel lets her. "I'm really sorry," Santana murmurs again, holding her tightly, kissing her hair, forehead, her cheeks.

Santana holds her like this for what seems like hours, before they finally head off to their bedroom.

Rachel falls asleep with Santana holding her tight. Nothing is fixed or settled, but at least Santana has come home. She is glad for that.

They will have time enough in the morning to talk things over.

* * *

_**Author's end notes:**_

_**And there you have it! Thank you so much for your (kind, gentle) reviews. It was hard to write this chapter but it had to be done…this scene had already been in my head long before I began this story. I wanted to continue exploring the nature and complexity of a relationship, especially something like Rachel and Santana's which started out like it did. Anyone who's had a relationship may probably recognize that angst that comes with the joy of having a relationship in this chapter. :) As always, thanks for trusting me with this and for sticking with me this long. And don't worry, I'm not Ryan Murphy, so our Rachel, Santana and all the other characters (O.C. or not) in this 'verse are safe with me. :) Don't be hating! ;)**_

_**To MelovePezberry Re: Loving Chapter 14 update – thanks! Hope this chapter did not disappoint, too! Thanks for reading!**_

_**To FoxChaos - Re: this story giving you so many feelings – I'm so sorry for the feelings. :) But thank you for reading. Hopefully the next one will be better. :-)**_

_**To Amazed – Thanks for reading! But, I have one question: Who is Amanda? :)**_

_**To CarolineSC – Thanks for reading! :) Re: adoption – I think Suzie is already a handful for Santana and Rachel right now though. :)**_

_**To kutee –Thanks so much as always for reading this! Much appreciate it. Re: Rachel, Santana and Suzie family time – thanks! Re: Flower line – yes, that was my favorite, too! :) Re: Song list – I'm glad you loved it. As for West Life - Hope you enjoyed them! If not, I'm so sorry! :-) I had a Brit friend who was absolutely obsessed with them and I had to listen to them for hours every day for two months when we used to drive around for work. The song was a nod to endless hours of listening to WestLife.**_

_**To parker88 – Again, thank you so much for reading. Hope this chapter did not disappoint!**_

_**To SoFlaComet – Re: Santana and Miranda in San Fran – You'll have to wait for the next few chapters to find out. ;) Re: Very nice family moments – Thanks. I wanted to show some family fluff, too! Re: Suzie – Yes, she IS a hoot! I love writing her! :) Re: Thanks for sharing – you are very welcome. And thanks for reading!**_

_**To dayabieberxo Re: Ruining your happiness with Miranda, getting too emotional – Gah, I am sorry! :( Re: Evil prissy blonde Brittany lookalike, getting hit by the bus – Hmmm, that's not a half-bad idea! :) Anyway, thanks for reading and thanks for the compliment! Does wonders to this writer! :)**_

_**To DragonsWillFly – Again, many thanks for the help with this chapter! And for being there for me always. It is always much appreciated! :) Live long and prosper! :)**_

_**Also, also, borrowed that one line from that novel "I Have No Mouth, And I Must Scream".**_

_**Songs featured in this chapter:**_

_**"It Will Rain" by Bruno Mars**_

_**"Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow" by Amy Winehouse (this is one of the coolest versions of this song ever!)**_

_**"Landslide" by Dixie Chicks (as sung by Santana Lopez, Brittany S. Pierce and Miss Holliday)**_

_**"It's So Hard to Say Goodbye to Yesterday" by Boyz II Men**_


	16. Seasons of Love

**_Author's note: Team Pezberry! C_****_hapter 16 is up, t_**hanks for your patience! Happy reading!

* * *

The week before Christmas break does not go well for Rachel.

First of all, Rachel and Santana do not get the chance to talk. Santana's boss calls her Sunday morning and she spends the rest of the weekend working, holed up in her tiny little cubicle of an office in their apartment taking calls from colleagues and clients while working on her laptop.

Santana then announces that she not only has to leave earlier than expected but that she has to leave a couple of days from Sunday, which means that she would be away for a good two weeks or so at least, missing not only Suzie's presentation and their anniversary but also possibly Christmas. She apparently has to attend some pre-conference women's caucuses as well as meetings with the main law office, some West Coast clients and supporters.

Suzie is upset, sulks and goes into her room after Santana's announcement while Rachel just stares at Santana after hearing the news, disappointment and disbelief descending on her like a deluge. Santana averts her eyes, unable to meet Rachel's gaze. They stand there, in the living room, in what would seem to be one of those all-too-common silences that seem to punctuate Santana's announcements these days, before Santana clears her throat, sighs, takes a step towards her and says, "Rach…" When Rachel does not answer, she takes a few steps closer, until she is standing so close Rachel can smell gardens in spring time, lifts her chin with a finger and says, " I know you're still mad at me and there's never enough time and I know we're supposed to talk and everything, but we'll figure this out, okay? Just…don't freak out…and don't do anything stupid til I get back, okay? And I'm coming home for Christmas, okay? I'm coming home."

Rachel looks at Santana, really looks at Santana, tries to search her eyes for the truth in her words. Then she sighs and nods with both resignation and understanding. Santana nods, as if to say, "Then that's settled" and wraps her arms around Rachel, engulfing her in a hug.

"I love you," Rachel says into Santana's neck as she hugs Santana back.

Santana holds her even more tightly, pulls back, cups Rachel's cheek with one hand and gently whispers, "I love you, too" before planting a soft kiss on Rachel's lips. The kiss is meant to be just that, a kiss, but it ends up being a long, deep one and it almost seems like Santana wants to make a point with her kiss, like she wants to prove something, like she wants Rachel to understand something. But Rachel sometimes still struggles with Santana's unspoken language, so she just kisses Santana back as deeply and fervently, hoping Santana can understand what she is trying to convey as well.

Santana then breaks away from the kiss and the hug, sighs and says, "Now I've got to go talk to Suzie, okay?"

Rachel smiles and nods as she and Santana head for Suzie's room.

It takes Santana awhile to placate her daughter. Even with the help of Rachel assuring her that Santana will try to come home as soon as possible, Suzie is inconsolable. "You're _always_ busy!" Suzie whines from the bed where she has plopped down, facing the wall, and from the quiet quiver of her shoulders, Rachel knows the child has been crying. When Santana looks at Rachel, for help or supplication and Rachel shrugs, as if to say, "Even your daughter thinks you're too busy!" Santana sighs, and tries to convince her daughter that she will try to come home for Christmas.

It takes a while to persuade her daughter. But after Santana promises that she will Skype both Rachel and Suzie every day that she is away, that she will be watching Suzie's presentation (barring faulty wi-fi connection at the school) on Skype, and that she will try, come hell or high water, to come home for Christmas and make it up to both Rachel and Suzie big time – "_Especially_ Mee!" Suzie emphasizes, making Rachel smile at the child and love her more – does Suzie's mood lift. Her mood changes enough for her to allow Santana to hug her.

"I'm still mad at you though," Suzie says to her mother, as she hugs her.

"I know," Santana says. "I'm sorry."

Santana leaves for San Francisco a couple of days later.

* * *

Things have also been hectic at school.

Rachel is up to her neck on last-minute paperwork that she needs to do before Christmas break starts, lesson plans, quizzes, tests, checking papers, accomplishing of and submitting any and all forms, reports and other kinds of paperwork that Principal Abrams requires of his teachers. She is also busy with classes, giving last minute homework, term papers and holiday reading lists for her students.

Principal Abrams calls Rachel once, to his office, to talk to her about Ruth Goldman, one of her Glee kids.

"So, what's up?" Rachel says as she takes the seat Principal Abrams offers to her.

She notes that Principal Abrams' office, unlike the rest of the school, which is to say the hallways, the library, the cafeteria, the gym, the classrooms, is warm and cozy and not prone to sending anyone into a bad case of the shivers. She had actually had to bring her class with Baz and the others to the restaurant across the school, because it had heating, just because it was her first class and it was cold and they needed a place that was warmer than the classroom. The students from her next class had all tried to stuff the windows and every crevice where they think the cold could seep in, with every available implement, device, scrap of paper, to keep the cold out. She thinks it is the having class in the restaurant, and the many ways in which they have tried to keep the classroom warm is the reason for her being called into the office, but it is not. She almost envies Gloria and the other teachers' classes, as they have classrooms packed full with students, so the rooms seem warmer and cozier. Gloria had snorted at that. "We are overworked, underpaid and stuck with overcrowded classrooms and lots of paperwork. How is that okay?" she asks grumpily, before backing up and apologizing, attributing it to her menopause. Rachel had rolled her eyes.

It is freezing cold inside Taft High and paradoxically warm inside Principal Abrams' office and so Rachel is in no mood for paperwork, bureaucracy, red tape, and one of Principal Abrams' more inspired, condescending talking to, but she sits back patiently and waits for Principal Abrams to begin.

Principal Abrams takes his seat behind his desk, gathers his hands in front of him and clasps them together, looks at her, clears his throat and asks, "How are your classes?"

Of all the things she does not like about having to work in the four walls of an academic environment, it is the pleasantries and the small talk she has to engage in. Obviously Principal Abrams' own brand of pleasantry is just a way for him to warm up to his subject, which is to say, whatever scolding he has to give to his teachers for whatever infraction they have committed. Not to say that she has not had her share of these kinds of talk on Broadway, but there was much more snark and more to-the-point talk in theater, but she is getting impatient. It is cold and it is Christmas and Santana is away on business and she just wants this entire meeting over with so she can retreat to the safety and comfort of her home, so she does not have to deal with people for at least a good couple of weeks or so. But she remains quiet and lets Principal Abrams go through the motions of asking her how her classes are, how her students are, make an absent-minded comment about the weather, before finally going into the reason he has called her in his office in the first place.

"How is Glee Club these days?" he asks.

"They're doing fine," Rachel answers, "We're getting ready for the eliminations this week. We've been very busy with rehearsals and we've…"

"Yes, yes, that's all fine," Principal Abrams interrupts her, distracted, as if he wants this over with as well. Principal Abrams has the interesting habit of sounding and looking like he has no time for anything and is perpetually interrupting people, teachers and students alike, in the middle of conversations. "I understand Ruth Goldman is a member of your club?"

Rachel nods. Ruth Goldman was the student who had bailed on them during their auditions. Quiet and reserved, she sang what was expected of her and never tried to stand out or draw attention to herself. She had never explained why she had did not appear during that fateful day, and Rachel had never been one to pry, but Ruth had tried to be present on all their practice sessions after, always cooperative, but slightly aloof.

"Ah," Principal Abrams says. He then clears his throat again, an annoying habit that is beginning to grate on Rachel's nerves, and says, "Her, uh, mother, Mrs. Goldman, came to my office the other day."

Principal Abrams pauses to let that information sink in. There is something in the way he says it that makes Rachel think she is supposed to get the meaning behind this revelation. But she does not, so she waits for Principal Abrams to continue, pushing down the irritation at his annoying pauses.

"Mrs. Goldman is a, er, valued member of our community," Principal Abrams mercifully continues now, "A pillar of our community, as it were. We are fortunate she has chosen Taft High and she has been a very active member of our PTA. That her daughter is her complete opposite in terms of personality, intelligence, achievements has not escaped many an observant person, but thankfully, Mrs. Goldman remains active and contributes to the development of our school."

Rachel leans back on the chair, crosses her arms in front of her, tilts her head as if to ask what Principal Abrams' point is. Principal Abrams is of course, oblivious, but luckily, he goes on before Rachel loses patience.

"Mrs. Goldman is a very staunch advocate of reform in the public education system," Principal Abrams reveals. "She recognizes that there are a lot of things that need to be improved in our schools. And we are fortunate enough to have her on our side. I think she may even plan to run for our school district one of these days, if she is so inclined."

Rachel nods, just to indicate that she understands so far what Principal Abrams is saying.

"She believes that we need to beef up our education system," Principal Abrams continues, "She's well aware, as we all are, that the American public education system has been lagging behind the rest of the world the past couple of decades and she intends to campaign that that be changed in the next few years. I honestly do not know, really, how she intends to do that, but suffice it to say that she is a woman who means business."

Rachel nods again.

"Which means," Principal Abrams sighs now, "She thinks school should only be a place where we learn what needs to be learned, and anything that is not academic, that is to say, extracurricular activities, such as sports, the campus paper, PFLAG, and yes, even Glee Club, are a waste of time and money and take away valuable time from studying."

Principal Abrams says the last part in one long breath and it almost seems like he has done so just so Rachel does not interrupt him with her trademark, interrogative annoying questions that start with "Why?" "What for?" "How come?" and end with "Why not?"

"Okay," Rachel says uncertainly, now having a vague idea what Principal Abrams is saying, but unsure as to what he is trying to get at. "Are you saying Glee Club _might_ be canceled or something? Because we agreed it could continue as long as it didn't drain or use the school coffers."

"I…yes," Principal Abrams stammers, as if caught red-handed over something that he did actually agree to, a few months ago. "You are right, of course, Miss Berry. And yes, Glee Club will stay on. You have done an admirable job of keeping Glee Club afloat. I'm just giving you a kind of, 'head's up' as the kids of today would say, that you have gained one detractor who may not be too fond of the idea of a high school Glee Club taking away students from studying."

Rachel resists the urge to roll her eyes and argues, "My students have turned their grades around since they joined Glee Club. I require them to have 'B's in their classes at least. Some of them are preparing for the PSATs even as we speak. And I'm helping a couple of them snag scholarships for college."

"Yes, I…" Principal Abrams says, stops, and asks, incredulous, "How did you _do_ that anyway? It's mindboggling!" He looks at Rachel intently for a second, as if hoping that by doing so, the answer would magically be yielded, but as Rachel shows any indication of doing so, he continues, "Anyway, she has learned that her daughter, Ruth, has joined Glee Club and is quite unhappy about it. Called me at home specifically to inform me _how_ unhappy she really was, yadda yadda yadda. And the daughter, you might be interested to note, has kept this information from her, and thus has been sneaking off during those weekend practices you have, and has not, in point of fact, informed her mother of the practices you've been having during school days. Which has made Mrs. Goldman even more upset, I can tell you that."

"I had waivers and permits made specifically for them to ensure that their parents are aware that they are doing extracurricular activity outside school hours and are being allowed to do so," Rachel points out now.

"Ah, yes," Principal Abrams admits. "Clever, that. But Ruth, you will be disappointed to find out, has been forging her mother's signature as well. Which means that Mrs. Goldman now thinks Glee Club and _any_ other extracurricular activity has gained some kind of reputation as a – " and here he uses air quotes – " 'corruptor' of young minds."

Rachel knits her eyebrows now. "I don't understand. This is the twenty first century. How can music be a 'corruptor' of young minds? And I hardly think singing Etta James' gospel song 'Oh, Happy Day' qualifies as corrupting young minds. I should think they would be happy as that's actually the _opposite_ of what we are doing."

Principal Abrams sighs. "You would think they would think that, but you'd be surprised at the kind of things I hear in this office every day," he says. He is silent for a few seconds before he sighs again, rubs his fingers on his eyes, sighs again and says, "If truth be told, Miss Berry, I admire the work you're doing with these kids, and with your classes, and please do _not_ repeat this outside the hallowed walls of this office, but I really don't care how you do it, as long as you're not committing any felony. The truth is, you're getting through these kids in a way only a few can, save maybe for the likes of Mrs. Gomez and such, and I support you, but on the other hand, we _do_ have overzealous parents like Mrs. Goldman on our hands and to tell you the truth again, I do get sick and tired of all these people breathing down my neck…and just days before Christmas at that! I seriously just want this school break to start so I can get away from this all, but, as we still have a few days to go, Ruth, apparently, cannot be allowed back to rejoin Glee Club, as she is not only grounded but banned from extracurricular activities. I do not really want to have to have some kind of verbal altercation over something trivial as this. Mrs. Goldman had insisted on meeting you but I had to put my foot down on that, and the child had admitted it was all her doing and you had no knowledge of it. I've only known you a few months Miss Berry, but I'm pretty sure you would have had nothing to do with that! But yes, so there you have it!"

The quasi-rant that Principal Abrams goes into surprises Rachel a bit, and it seems to exhaust the man, as he suddenly takes off his glasses, drops it back on his desk and leans back on his swivel chair, closing his eyes a bit.

"Are you okay, Mr. Abrams?" Rachel asks now, when Principal Abrams makes no move to speak.

"Huh? Yes," Mr. Abrams says. He sighs. "Occupational hazard…parents," he says now, opening his eyes and doing a tired half-snort, half-laugh. "One of the students also got involved in some kind of altercation off-school. I think he was friends with your students, Anferny Parnell and Arnold Adler?"

"Arnold Adler?" Rachel says blankly, before she realizes he is referring to Kareem. "What kind of altercation?"

"The kind where the boy gets himself shot and is in critical condition at the hospital," Principal Abrams says. "Drugs, I believe. Or gang-related. Or both. It's usually one or the other. So expect some somber, subdued, angry students in your classes looking to get some payback or something."

Rachel nods.

"I think that would be all, Miss Berry," Principal Abrams says.

As Rachel gets up to leave, and makes for the door, Principal Abrams stops and says, "Oh, and good luck on eliminations!"

Rachel turns and smiles at him and says, "Thanks."

* * *

The Glee kids, predictably, _are_ subdued, somber and do look a bit angry when Rachel meets them on the day of eliminations, a day after the meeting with Principal Abrams. The shooting of their friend, plus Ruth's absence and the cold weather contributes to a sullen mood as they all gather around the front steps of Taft High and pile into Mr. Smith's van.

Kenyatta is subdued for another reason – Rachel has tried to talk to her and told her if she did not tell her family about her pregnancy, then Rachel will. But Kenyatta cuts her off quickly and tells her dismissively and casually that it was a false alarm, that she just got her period. Rachel does not know what to say to that, and Kenyatta speaks with such finality, and also as if she does not want to talk about it anymore, that Rachel does not push the subject.

Rachel is only glad that even without Ruth they can still compete, as Dubs is still part of the club.

There is a silence in the van as they drive through Brooklyn and weave through the city all the way to the City Convention Center. The ride is uneventful and surprisingly civil and Rachel is surprised by this.

There are other choirs from other schools and seeing them all now, like this, reminds Rachel of what it was like when _she_ was in Glee Club in high school and despite her general disposition as of late that has been precipitated heavily by unresolved issues with Santana, Santana's absence, the presence of too many feelings for the woman she is very much in love with, irritation over a faceless parent who is opposed to Glee Club, a vague worry about an unknown student in critical condition who was close to her Glee kids, the cold, cold, weather, her classes and the paperwork she needs to complete, she feels excitement, nebulous joy, anticipation, as she looks at each student that has come here for the sole purpose of _singing_.

"Whoa," Baz says, as he stops, taking in the crowd of kids, before continuing on to the registration table.

They have not seen this crowd the last time they came here, as they were late for auditions and had to convince the organizers to allow them to audition.

"This be intense, Miz B!" Baz says now as he cranes his neck, checking out the groups of kids gathered in circles, or milling around, laughing and talking and rehearsing all around them.

The air is electric with excitement, and everyone can feel it.

They all sign in and Rachel is relieved that they are fifth and thus would not have to stay all day long to wait their turn.

The eliminations go by without a hitch and it is over before Rachel even notices it.

When her kids go up the stage and perform, she knows, just by looking at and listening to them, that they will qualify for the eliminations.

And they do.

It is the only bright spot in a week that is proving to be anything but bright and she is happy about that.

* * *

On the last day the Glee Club meets, which was also the last day of school before the school break starts, Rachel drags herself to the auditorium, feet leaden, heart heavy, mood still dark and gloomy as Santana's absence continues to be felt at home. Santana calls her now and then and they Skype whenever they can, but as the days stretch on, without them having resolved anything, Rachel's worries and anxieties seem to escalate. It feels corny but she feels a little like there is an emptiness in her soul. The fact that it is the holidays and everywhere she looks she sees couples holding hands, clinging to each other and hears Christmas carols and sees nauseating Christmas specials about couples spending the holidays together, makes her feel like screaming at anything and everything. Having decorated the apartment with Christmas decors has not done wonders for her mood as well. Even hearing Suzie gush about Kate every now and then is beginning to prove difficult for Rachel.

The kids are having an impromptu jam session but when she appears, they all keep quiet, as if sensing her mood.

"Alright, everyone," she says, as she puts bag, clipboard, notes, sheet music on a chair, puts hands on hips, and arms akimbo faces everyone, sighs and says, "Okay, before anything else, a round of applause for everyone for making it past the eliminations!"

Everyone erupts in thunderous applause, wolf whistles and feet stomping on the floor, as the kids scream "Woohoo!" "Yeah!" "'Cause we are awesome like that!" and "That was all because of you, Miz B!"

Rachel waits for the applause to die down before she begins, "Alright. Last meeting before the holidays. It's that most dreaded part of any Glee Club meeting: the set list. You know the drill, what do you have for me?"

"Spice Girls, Miz B!"

"Backstreet Boys!"

"Yeah, Anferny can totally sing Spice Girls and Backstreet Boys! Sing it, Anferny, Pavarotti style!"

"Yooooo, tell me what you want, what you really want!"

"And who are you supposed to be, Ghetto Spice?"

"I want Michael Bolton!"

"Michael Bolton sucks! Eagles! Hotel California!"

"Take that back!"

"Oh, yeah, sure, let's be singing stabbing beasts with our steely knives and stuff!"

"I'm surprised you even know that!"

"Yeah, I'm Celtic like that!"

"Celtic?"

"I like all kinds of music! Or is that _epileptic_?"

"Oh, you mean, _eclectic_!"

"That's what I said!"

"I Shot the Sheriff'! 'Cause that is off the hook!"

"Screw that! Let's be singing 'Sympathy for the Devil'! 'Cause that is awesome y'all!"

"Kings of Leon!"

"Hell yeah! We should totally sing 'Your Sex is on Fire'!"

"'Your Sex is On Fire'? What does that even _mean_?"

"Sounds simultaneously dirty and terrifying at the same time!"

"Sounds like some STD shit."

"Like the clap or crabs or something."

"Sounds like something out of an anti-STD poster, really. 'Kids, is your sex on fire? You might have STD. Get yourself checked. Safe sex or no sex at all!'"

"I only have one philosophy in life: scratch where it itches."

"Gross, Baz."

"Whatever, it sounds like a great pick-up line! Picture it: 'Excuse me, I think you're hot. Your sex is on fire!'"

"Yeah, if you were some pervy fire fighter with some untreatable disease or something!"

"It burns! It buuuuuurns!"

"I'm melting! I'm melting! Aaaah!"

"What is wrong with you people?" Rachel asks, exasperated, interrupting the spirited discussion. "Of course we can't sing any of those songs!"

"Word."

"I think we broke her."

Everyone is surprised at and silenced by Rachel's outburst, she is normally calm and collected and everyone grows quiet, before Baz says, "Just kidding, Miz B! We already have a set list."

"Yeah," McG says. "We figure we speed up the process a bit, asked the other Glee kids what they wanted to sing."

"Yeah, while still making sure we be following your rules, Miz B," Kareem adds, "Like we can't be choosing anything with cussin' in it, or anything that hurts or degrades women, or men, or races, or gays and lesbians and people with disabilities and minorities and stuff like that…which pretty much means we're left with songs from 'High School Musical' or some such Disney musical shit or something."

Baz comes up to Kareem and hits him on the head. "Stop messin' with Miz B. We just be messin' with ya, Miz B."

"Yeah, we came up with the Fugees' 'Killing Me Softly', Bob Marley's 'Redemption Song' and Sting's 'Desert Rose'," Kareem says, rubbing his hand on the back of his head and giving Baz a warning look. "You goin' down later, Baz."

Baz grins.

"That's actually a good set list," Rachel says, simultaneously surprised, relieved and proud that her kids had taken the initiative to do the set list without her. "How did you come up with this one?"

"Well, by voting, really," Kareem says, shrugging. "And much arguing and gnashing of teeth. The girls liked 'Killing Me Softly', Abdul, Amy and Isabelle wanted yet another Asian-inspired song – just kidding you guys – and we all liked 'Redemption Song'. There's a pretty good version by this group called 'Sweet Honey on the Rock', so I think we might go with that. We might need help with the arrangement though, but other than that, we're good to go…subject to your approval of course."

"Yeah, we wanted the girls to resolve the set list issue through mud wrestling, or better yet, Turkish oil wrestling! But they didn't want that," Baz says morosely.

Kareem rolls his eyes and shakes his head at Baz. "Yeah, and we thought, maybe if we get past quarter finals, we might as well discuss what we gonna sing for the semi-finals, so we came up with this," McG says, holding up another piece of paper, "Bob Marley's 'No Woman, No Cry', a classic, Marvin Gaye's 'What's Going On?' and Alicia Key's 'If I Ain't Got You', in Spanish."

"Hey, did you know Marvin's gay?"

"Did you know Orlando blooms?"

"Focus, you guys, focus!" Kareem says now, rolling his eyes.

"And we were thinking maybe we should start thinking of costumes or something, too," Hannah says.

"Yeah, like we should totally get some Stormtrooper costumes or some Darth Vader costumes or something," McG says, then he shifts voices and says, "Luke, I am your father."

"Geek!"

"Starlight Express man! Those costumes are awesome!"

"As if you're not a geek?!"

"Yeah, that's awesomely atrocious!"

"Shut up!"

"I still want my Bjork swan costume, dammit!"

"Shut up, Baz."

"Anyway, we'll figure something out," Kareem says, grinning.

"And I think we should totally come up with some choreography or something, too," Hannah says. "I mean, we're cheerleaders, we can totally come up with something."

"Square dance!"

"River dance!"

"Gross!"

"Oh, god, are we doing Mariah hands? Like this?"

"What the hell are you doing? You look like you're changing a light bulb!"

"Way better than what you do! Which is basically dancing like you are possessed! I feel like I wanna pray over you and cast out the demons and stuff."

"We are legion. For we are many."

"Which kind of light bulb though? Fluorescent? Or indecent?"

"_Indecent_? You mean incandescent light bulb! Baz, when you were born, did the doctor turn to your mother and slap her?"

"Shut up! Anyway, we should totally do something like in 'Flash Dance' or 'Fame'!"

"Baz, what is wrong with you? Black people don't do 'Flash Dance'!"

"'Full Monty' then!"

"No stripping on stage," Rachel says quickly. "Or gyrating for that matter. Nothing lewd please."

"Aaaw, and I was hoping I could win the judges over with my pecs and abs."

"What pecs and abs, Baz? Ya got man-boobs. Get a bra."

"Aaaw snap!"

"Word."

* * *

After much discussion, they all finalize the set list for the quarter and semi-finals, coming up with a working idea about the choreography and costumes, and agreeing that Rachel will do the arrangements and email it to everyone, after which everyone is expected to practice on the holidays. After they are done, Rachel glances over at her watch and declares that they are done for the day.

But Baz comes up to her, hands her a CD that he says is for Suzie ("Can you please give it to her? She says she needs it for school, I promise that's all strictly GP, Miz B," he says), then when she accepts the CD and makes to leave, he stops her, and says, "One more thing, Miz B."

"What?" she asks, curious.

Everyone goes quiet as they shuffle around and Rachel tilts her head, curious at what they are going to do. "What?" she repeats.

"Well," Baz says, drawing out the word a bit longer than usual, hesitating, then rocking back and forth on his boots. "We kinda…put something together for ya, like a Christmas present. Do you mind staying and listening to it a bit?"

Rachel knits her brows, but she puts down the bag she has already slung on her shoulder and takes one of the seats near her.

Baz nods to Dubs, who nods back and places his fingers over the keyboard and first strains of "Seasons of Love" start to echo in the auditorium.

The kids all stand up and take positions and start singing,

"_Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes_

_Five hundred twenty five thousand six moments so dear_

_Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes_

_How do you measure,_

_Measure a year?"_

The frown disappears from Rachel's face as she recognizes the song and despite herself, a slow grin starts to form on her face, as the kids all sing together, in perfect harmony, the same song she sung during her "audition" for them the first day of practice a few months back.

"_In daylights, in sunsets_

_In midnights, in cups of coffee_

_In inches, in miles_

_In laughter, in strife_

_In five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes_

_How do you measure a year in the life?"_

As she looks at each face, smiling and singing and swaying from side to side, to the melody Dubs plays on the keyboards, she feels touched by the gesture. The club had learned a song that, a few months ago, they had disdainfully dismissed as a song that they had never heard of, that sounded like something their grandparents or parents listened to, and which, they had indicated, sounded very strange.

"_How about love? How about love? How about love? _

_Measure in love_

_Seasons of love_

_Seasons of love…"_

Kenyatta then steps forward a bit and sings the line Rachel sung when she was on Broadway.

"_Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes_

_Five hundred twenty five thousand journeys to plan _

_Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes_

_How do you measure,_

_The life of a woman or a man?"_

Anferny then sings the next line in his powerful voice,

"_In truths that she learned_

_Or in times that he cried_

_In bridges that he burned_

_Or the way that she died…"_

Rachel does not want to cry. Really does not want to, but she finds her eyes welling up with tears and she tries to fight it back. She feels really touched by this gesture and having had a somewhat bad week, she finds this gesture yet another bright spot in her week.

"Merry Christmas, Miz B," Baz says, grinning.

"Yeah, we figure we gotta do something for our famous Broadway star Glee Club adviser," McG says, grinning as well.

_Of course, they would find out, the little bastards_, Rachel thinks.

"Yeah, we saw you on youtube," Baz says, "Anferny showed us. I think Anferny has a little crush on ya, Miz B. And he has this weird thing about opera and Broadway. It's really gay, man."

Anferny regards Baz silently, before he comes up to him and silently smacks him upside on his head. "Shut up."

"Anyway, Miz B, don't worry, your secret is safe with us," Kareem says. "We figure if you'd wanted us to know you were some big hotshot Broadway star, you would have told us from day one. But you didn't, so we guessed maybe you didn't want anyone to know."

"Yeah, maybe you had some Hollywood type scandal or something."

"Or a meltdown or something!"

"Hey, if she did, we'd have seen it on youtube! Or TMZ!"

"No, I didn't...have any of those…" Rachel says. "But thanks for the song and Merry Christmas. Now please leave, before I change my mind and let you all do another round of vocalizations."

Everyone laughs as they all file out of the auditorium, the kids playfully shoving and pushing and clapping each other on the back. Everyone smiles and greets Rachel a "Merry Christmas".

Maybe the holidays would not be so bad after all.

* * *

Suzie lights up like a Christmas tree when Rachel hands her the CD Baz asked her to give her. Rachel wonders and is half-afraid about what a CD that Baz made would be used for in yet another of Suzie's schemes. But Suzie remains all secretive and mysterious, and after promising that it is nothing that will get her into trouble, detention or expulsion, Rachel stops bothering her about its contents.

Suzie's presentation happens the day before school break and it comes after a parade of presentations that include an ear-splitting piano recital based on a piece from "The Nutcracker", a painful rendition of "Jingle Bell Rock" from a group of awkward sixth grade boys on the verge of adolescence, voices cracking and horribly uncoordinated bodies as limbs fly off in all directions, an adorable if ill-advised Christmas play from the first graders that included a random holiday armadillo, a velociraptor, a Christmas bunny, The Flash along with Jesus, Mary, Joseph and the Three Wise Men and a second grade out-of-tune choir rendition of "Oh, Holy Night". The only good performance is Kate's beautiful rendition of "All I Want for Christmas is You". Rachel is safely ensconced on the front row, mercifully a few chairs away from Mrs. Sheridan who sits on the other side, flanked by adoring parents. Her laptop and video camera are set up so she could chat to Santana on Skype and video Suzie's performance as well. She has her headset on so as to be able to chat with Santana without Mrs. Sheridan shushing her. The welcome image of Santana is on the laptop screen, in her trademark tank top and shorts, in her hotel room, waiting patiently for Suzie's turn, all the while trying hard not to comment on the seemingly endless and underwhelming set of presentations thus far.

"When's Suzie coming on?" Santana asks a little impatiently, into Rachel's headset, all the while running a hand on her dark unruly hair. She looks tired and sleepy and is stifling a yawn, but she waits patiently for Suzie's presentation.

Finally and thankfully the host, one of the teachers, comes up to the stage to announce that the next part of the program will be a presentation from sixth grader Susanna Marie Pierce-Lopez.

Santana and Rachel clap with the rest of the audience as the teacher walks of the stage, the lights from the stage dim, silence descends on the auditorium and all Rachel and Santana can hear are the occasional coughs and whispers from the audience members.

"What's she going to do?" Santana whispers.

"I don't know," Rachel whispers back.

"It's not something that's going to get her and us into trouble is it?" Santana asks nervously now.

"I…don't know," Rachel replies uncertainly. Rachel knows Suzie enough that she gets a bit of Santana's unpredictable, dark streak but also seems to channel Brittany's sweetness and Rachel's diva like attitude as well. So who knows really, she thinks to herself, as she sits back and waits for the lights to come on and the curtains to draw back.

Presently, the lights slowly illuminate the stage in a soft glow that starts from the bottom and the sides, the curtains slowly draw back and the soft strains of Tchaikovsky's "Swan Lake" begin to play as a half-bowed figure on the middle stage, bent in a curtsy, illumined in the half-dim light of the stage, slowly unfolds herself as the melody begins. The figure stands to her full height and Rachel sees that it is Suzie, in a simple swan-inspired leotard and tutu, doing the first of many positions and dance movements to the music, moving around on the stage with balletic elegance. She dances gracefully, Rachel thinks, and for an instant, Suzie reminds Rachel so much of Brittany, from the long, lithe body that is proving to be a tall, lean one soon, to the simplicity of her easy grace as she does the slow, enfolding movements of adagio, moving forward to and from the stage, executing jumps, pirouettes and arabesques with perfect precision, timing and fluidity. Rachel stares at her awestruck, surprised at how the child given to pranks and schemes that involve hamsters, ants, glue and flagpoles in order to impress a girl and strike fear into the hearts of school boys everywhere who got in her way, could move so gracefully on stage.

Santana seems equally awestruck, speechless, as she hears her catch her breath, then grow silent as she watches Suzie from the camera.

The music reaches a crescendo and Suzie leaps to the middle of the stage, and assumes first position, hands up, one foot forward, in a striking pose as the music fades. People start to clap uncertainly, wondering, perhaps if the number is over, but she does not move on stage and there is a silence, a pause, as Suzie and audience wait.

Suddenly, the heavy, rhythmic bass and drum beat of a familiar hip hop song starts playing on the sound system and then the unmistakable voice of Jay-Z rapping to "Empire State of Mind (New York)" comes on and Suzie starts moving to the hip hop beat, moving around the stage in bright, fast, brisk movements, executing small, quick jumps, moving as if suspended in mid-air, performing quick and slow turns with one leg extended, and the other on tiptoe, body moving with flawless timing to the beat of the song, as she glides and slides around the stage.

"_New York, concrete jungle where dreams are made of  
There's nothin' you can't do  
Now you're in New York  
These streets will make you feel brand new  
Big lights will inspire you  
Let's hear it for New York, New York,  
New York…"_

Rachel suddenly realizes this is probably what the CD Baz gave her contains and this probably explains Suzie's excitement and those talks she and Baz used to have during Glee practice. Rachel recognizes the song – she has sang to and danced to the song during one of Mr. Schuester's ridiculous attempts to recruit more members to the club. She remembers the song mostly for Santana's interesting dance routine with a hand rail out on the grounds with the rest of the Glee Club.

As Rachel watches Suzie dance with growing pride and joy, she also realizes that the song also contains some of those cusswords she has banned from her Glee Club and the joy and pride is suddenly eclipsed by a fear that the song would now blast the dreaded "N-word" for the whole school to hear. She does not really relish having to sit inside Mrs. Sheridan's office trying to defend their daughter's song choices.

"Baby, is that…?" Santana asks now, a bit uncertainly, "She's great, but that song…" And when her voice trails off, Rachel realizes she is thinking the same thing Rachel is thinking about the appropriateness of the song for a Christmas program where the whole school, plus parents and teachers are present and waiting to see who fared well and who did not.

But as she listens to the song, she realizes that there are gaps in the song, particularly when Jay-Z is mostly being street and using slang and cusswords. She is relieved to discover that Baz has stayed true to his word and has edited the song, effectively making it GP, as he has promised.

"Baby, she's amazing," Santana breathes out, awe in her voice.

"She is," Rachel whispers back.

"And I'm not just saying that 'cause she's ours…" Santana quickly adds, voice trailing off as she stares out at the webcam, peering into it to get a better view of Suzie on stage.

As the song reaches its end, Suzie also winds up her performance, going back to her original position as the song and the music fades out.

A brief silence punctuates the end of her performance before the audience erupts in applause and the lights come back on as she unfolds herself from her position and bows in a graceful curtsy to the audience. Rachel stands up, clapping vigorously, a wide grin on her face as she watches Suzie bow and wave to the audience. When Suzie catches a glimpse of Rachel, she mouths the words, "I love you, Mee" and Rachel smiles and mouths it back. Suzie nods and waves at her as she exits the stage.

* * *

Later, when all the performances are done and the program has ended, Rachel waits near the stage for Suzie and a few minutes later, Suzie skips down the stage and bounds up to Rachel, hugging Rachel tightly.

"Hey, you," Rachel says, returning the hug. "That was awesome. Congrats!"

"Aaaww, thanks, Mee!" Suzie says.

"Was that what you came up with to impress Kate?" Rachel asks Suzie now.

Suzie nods enthusiastically as she looks up at Rachel.

"Well, what did she think about it?" Rachel asks.

Before Suzie could answer, Rachel's phone rings and she sees that it is Santana and when she answers it, Santana says, "Hey, babe, is Suzie with you now? Can I talk to her?"

"Yeah, hold on," Rachel says, handing the phone to Suzie after. "It's your mom."

"Okay," Suzie says, accepting the phone and moving away a bit, one hand on the other ear so she could hear her mother.

When Suzie and her mother are done with their conversation, Suzie hands the phone back to Rachel with a "thank you, Mee" and Rachel picks up their conversation from where they left off, curious about what Kate thought, "Well, what did Kate think about your performance?"

Suzie shrugs her shoulders.

"What does that mean?" Rachel asks.

"She kind of saw the performance, but she had to leave after because she and her parents had a plane to catch tonight."

"Oh," Rachel can only say. It does not escape her that after the euphoria of performing and applause, Suzie seems sad and miserable.

"But you guys are okay?" Rachel asks. "I mean she's coming back after Christmas break, isn't she? You guys will be apart for only a few weeks. You can definitely Skype and text and stuff."

Suzie sighs that overdramatic, diva-esque sigh and this signals to Rachel that she will have to brace herself for some pubescent romantic dilemma of epic proportions.

"What's wrong?" she asks patiently.

Suzie shrugs her shoulders. "Kate might transfer to another school. In _California_. I'm so depressed."

Rachel tries not to smile at how melodramatic Suzie is being yet _again_ as she listens to this bombshell, but instead says, "Honey, you said 'might', so there's a chance she's coming back, yes?"

"A slim chance," Suzie replies.

"Okay…" Rachel says, unsure as to how she might be able to console Suzie in this situation. She sometimes wishes there is some kind of instruction manual on parenthood that she could use when twelve-year-old kids come up to her with their love problems. But as she does not have one within reach or existence, she is silent for a while as they make their way out of the auditorium, effectively dodging Mrs. Sheridan and whatever barrage of a confusing mix of praise and criticism she has for them.

"Well, did you at least tell her about your feelings?" Rachel asks now.

Suzie shakes her head morosely.

Rachel sighs. Having Suzie mope around for the rest of their Christmas break is not something Rachel feels like looking forward to, so she asks the one question she knows she is going to regret later.

"Did she leave already? " she asks Suzie now.

"I don't know," Suzie answers glumly. "Maybe not yet, they just need to be there like, a couple of hours early or something."

"Well, do you know her flight schedule and which airport she's going to?"

Suzie turns to her, as understanding slowly dawns on her. Rachel can see excitement suddenly build up in Suzie's blue green eyes. She nods and tells Rachel Kate's flight schedule (because of course Kate would have told her her flight schedule) and the airport, which is the JFK airport over at Queens.

Rachel resists the urge to sigh and change her mind, because _of course_ the airport just has to be in _Queens_ and there will be traffic and a big holiday crowd of passengers and she does not really relish going. She does a quick calculation of the travel time based on the flight schedule Suzie has given her and she realizes that if they leave now they would probably be able to catch them before they leave for their flight.

"Fine," Rachel says. "We're going to go to the airport and you're going to tell your girl your feelings, okay? If you _promise_ not to sulk and be all miserable all Christmas."

"But _you've _been all sulky and miserable the past few days!" Suzie points out. "And it's not even your period or anything. I checked. I have a chart and everything. I noticed you get really moody and stuff right around the time you're about to get your period. And right after."

"Yes, but that's different. I'm living with your _mother_."

Suzie considers this. "Good point."

"And a chart, Suzie? Really? That's gross and mildly disturbing," Rachel says, shuddering at the thought of having her monthly cycle being monitored by Suzie. She makes a mental note to confiscate those charts later from her.

Suzie, meanwhile thinks about Rachel's proposition and after a few moments, says, "It sounds like a good deal though. I accept!"

Rachel rolls her eyes.

They rush out of the building and hail the first cab they see out of Green Avenue Academy. With luck and a very skillful New York cab driver, they might just make it in time to JFK airport for Suzie to tell Kate her feelings.

* * *

**_Author's end notes:_**

**_That's it for Chapter 16! Again, many thanks for reading and for your kind reviews. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Also, also, many thanks for your really kind, thoughtful, sensible comments on Chapter 15. It is much appreciated!_**

**_Also, big shout-out and many thanks to, those readers who came late to this story and power read this story from Chapter 1! You guys are awesome! As are all the ones who've stuck with this story and this verse from day one! :)_**

**_Chapter 17 is coming soon (apologies for taking so long to update, work just keeps getting in the way!:))._**

**_To kutee – Re: Will Santana make it home for the holidays? – guess we'll find out! :) Santana and Rachel talking to friends – we'll see! :) Re: Loving the updates – thanks! And again, thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed this one!_**

**_To MelovePezberry – Thanks for your comments, re: not everything can't be fluff. Re: Balancing job and family – yes, it is a tough thing to balance. Thanks for reading!_**

**_To ichigo111981 - Thanks for your insights, re: Rachel and Santana's complex relationship. Your comments were very thoughtful and interesting. Have to stick around to see what happens next! Thanks for reading!_**

**_To nickd93 – Re: Rollercoaster - Glad you are having fun and thanks for the compliment!_**

**_To parker88 - as always, thanks for your comments, and yes, have to agree, it was quite intense and it was tough to write. Glad you liked it. Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed this chapter!_**

**_To frustratedwriter13 – Re: Angst – So sorry. ;) I'm upset over the Break-up episode, too. :( But thanks for the compliment and hope you enjoyed this update!_**

**_To SoFlaComet – Thanks for your insights, re: complexity of Santana and Rachel's relationship. Thanks for the compliment and I'm glad you liked the previous chapter. Hope you liked this chapter, too. And as for being annoyed with Santana – hahah! Wonder what Santana must do to make you not be annoyed with her anymore? :) Thanks for reading and you're welcome!_**

**_To CarolineSC – Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!_**

**_To dayabieberxo - Re: Loved the previous update—Thanks! Re: Rachel and Santana so cute even when they're mad at each other – That's good to know! Re: I loved how deeply you went into Rachel thoughts – had to put my extensive reading of Carl Jung to good use somehow! Haha! Re: She's my fav character in this – good to know! I like her in this as well. :) Hope you enjoyed this chapter as well and thanks for reading!_**

**_To DragonsWillFly – Thanks so much for the insights, the advice, the info and pretty much everything else! :) You are a godsend! Thank you!_**

**_Song featured for this chapter:_**

**_"Empire State of Mind (New York)" by Jay-Z featuring Alicia Keys_**

**_"Seasons of Love" from the movie musical "Rent"_**

**_"Wanna Be" by the Spice Girls (because I couldn't resist! And I saw a classical tenor actually do Backstreet Boys and Spice Girls and it was just too, too funny)_**


	17. The Origin Of Love

_**Author's note: Team Pezberry! Chapter 17 is up! Enjoy!**_

* * *

A couple of hours later, in which Rachel and Suzie are treated to the cab driver, Ahkbar's, opinion on the latest news, the American economy, immigration, rising crime rates, traffic congestion, food prices, inflation, Christmas, the difference between his culture and American culture, and how cold the weather is, they finally get to the airport. Rachel is waiting inside, by the lobby, as Suzie talks to Kate a few meters away.

Thankfully, the plane is delayed so that has given Suzie and Rachel ample time to catch up with them. Suzie has been able to call Kate on her cellphone and she found Kate in time before they went in. Kate's parents are a discreet distance from the two girls as well. Kate's parents see Rachel in the distance and she tries for an apologetic smile, as if to apologize for the inconvenience, as it is early evening and they should get going, but Kate's parents only give her understanding, amused smiles, shaking their heads, as if to say, "The kids of today!" Rachel smiles back. Much like Kate, Kate's parents have always been very affable, understanding and charming.

The airport is a confused profusion of harried travelers leaving and arriving, families, couples, single people, business executives, tourists, welcome parties, airport personnel and officials, all craning heads, searching for loved ones, friends, acquaintances, strangers, straining to hear conversations, above the PA system which announces which flights have arrived and which ones are leaving, amidst laughter and talk and much crying. Some are looking up at the board intently hoping their flights have arrived and are not delayed. It is the holidays, so the energy, the atmosphere inside the airport is animated, alive with Christmas spirit. The airport is filled with Christmas decorations, Christmas wreaths, Christmas trees, real, life-like and cardboard Santa Clauses, reindeers and sleighs. Christmas songs drape everything in cheer, completing the holiday season. She has not realized how close the holidays are now until she enters the airport and sees people now with their families and loved ones gathered together to catch flights or to go home. For some strange reason she feels a bit more depressed than usual. As Rachel is Jewish, it is Santana who loves Christmas more, but Rachel has also come to look forward to and enjoy Christmas as well, only because Santana does, too. Santana has always made a big deal about Christmas Eve, _Noche Buena_, which is how Hispanic families like Santana's celebrate Christmas, with much fanfare, food, noise and good cheer. Rachel and Santana have never had a proper Christmas together with Suzie, as both are usually busy with work. Rachel had either been working on Broadway, or in London, or on tour whilst Santana is usually in California working as well. And when they do get together for the holidays, it is never on the day itself, there never seems to be enough time, as they meet their families, friends and attend the one hundred and one events that everyone seems to have planned for them whenever they are in Lima for a visit.

Presently, she notices that the talk between Suzie and Kate has ended. It has not taken long, she notes. The two girls have huddled, heads together, whispering to each other, Suzie's hands behind her, Kate's hands clutching her backpack, her full head of brown curly hair all around her as Suzie nervously runs her hand on her own dark blonde hair.

Rachel realizes, while watching them, that Suzie genuinely cares for Kate. She realizes as well that Suzie actually does not know what to do or say in front of Kate and has not, in fact, for all her schemes, told Kate her feelings for her. From her body language, and the way she looks at her, all flushed and shy, Rachel knows Suzie actually feels speechless around Kate. She just hopes Suzie will find the right words to tell Kate. She asks herself for the nth time why she is encouraging this in the first place, but Rachel is a sucker for romance, especially since hers seems to be on hold at the moment.

Suzie and Kate nod at each other before Kate goes off to her parents and rejoin the queue. Suzie turns around, searches for Rachel in the crowd and when she spots her, gives her a smile and walks towards her.

"Hey," Rachel says, leaning over a little and running a hand on Suzie's cheek. Suzie's getting a bit taller every day, she has noticed. She seems to definitely be taking after Brittany, at least height-wise. "How'd it go?"

Suzie looks at Rachel for a moment, face expressionless, before she breaks into a slow grin and just beams up at Rachel.

Rachel quirks up one side of her lips and says, "That's my girl."

Presently, Rachel spies Kate coming over to them.

"Don't look now, honey, but…" Rachel says, indicating with a nod in the general direction of Kate as she walks towards them.

Suzie looks at her, confusion in those beautiful light brown eyes flecked with blue and green, and asks, whilst turning around, "What?"

Rachel straightens back up and nods her head at Kate.

"Hi, Miss Berry," Kate says now.

"Hey," Rachel says, before stepping back awkwardly and discreetly, turning to the side to give the two some privacy, although still near enough to hear what they are saying to each other.

"Hey," Kate says to Suzie now.

"Hey," Suzie says, shyly.

Rachel smiles to herself. Suzie is using that soft, gentle voice she only ever uses when she talks to Kate. She knows this as she uses a more confident, sometimes loud voice to either parent.

There is silence now between them and Rachel folds her arms in front of her, glances at her watch, realizes it is getting late, looks down and thinks to herself, _Get on with it, you little lovebirds!_

"Ummm…"Kate nervously says, looking down on the floor, scuffing her boot on the tiles, and adjusting the strap of her backpack distractedly.

"Yeah…" Suzie says, by way of acknowledgement.

"Ummm…thanks for telling me," Kate shyly says now, softly. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," Suzie mumbles back, equally as shyly.

They stand there silently, regarding each other from the corner of their eyes.

"Was that dance during the Christmas program for me?" Kate suddenly asks, shyly, tentatively, carefully.

Suzie shyly looks up, wordlessly nods before looking down again.

They are silent again, before Kate tells her, softly, "Thank you. That song I sang was for you, too."

Suzie is so surprised she looks up and she sees Kate smiling at her. Suzie is speechless. Suddenly, Kate steps forward and plants a kiss on Suzie's cheek. "I'll see you when I get back, okay?"

Before Suzie can answer, Kate has gone on to rejoin her parents, waiting patiently in line and Suzie has the biggest grin on her face. Kate's parents smile and wave at Rachel and Suzie and they wave back as vigorously and enthusiastically.

No, the holidays might not be so bad after all.

* * *

Rachel and Suzie travel to Lima, Ohio the day after Suzie's presentation, when school break starts. Rachel is glad for the school break. She really, truly needs a vacation.

They take the train to Lima, as both Rachel and Suzie like seeing the countryside rolling out outside the window, but after a few minutes of endless rolling hills and fields and barren, gloomy wintry landscapes of bare, leafless trees and empty ground, Rachel has gotten sick and tired of it and has tried to do some work. She is trying to make the arrangements for the new set list for Glee Club, but she cannot really concentrate and she thus drops her pen on the table, on top of the sheet music. Listening to Coldplay's "The Scientist" is making her even more depressed, so she turns off her iPod and just looks out the window listlessly. She is trying to distract herself from the fact that in a couple of days it will be her fifth year anniversary with Santana and she will be celebrating it all alone, and a week after that, she will be celebrating Christmas, all alone, as well. These days, rather than look forward to birthdays and anniversaries, she finds herself dreading them, one of the hazards of getting older, she guesses, when life seems like it is all behind her and not in front of her, hers to take, like it did in high school, when everything seemed possible and hopeful and joyful.

Maybe that is what life is all about, she thinks. Maybe, in the end, people are meant to be,_ destined_ to be alone. Maybe it is as it should be. Maybe she should accept that. So she would not get hurt. Maybe she should just not get her hopes up. Maybe she should just lower her expectations. Or not have expectations at all. Maybe that is better.

Presently, Suzie looks up from playing on her PSP, from across the table, tilts her head and asks Rachel, "You okay, Mee?"

"Yeah, I am, why?" Rachel answers.

"You don't look okay, Mee," Suzie says. "I pick up on these things, you know."

Rachel makes a face. Sometimes, it _is_ eerie how Suzie _does_ pick up on these things.

"Hey, Mee, have you heard of this song?" Suzie asks now, offering an earphone bud to Rachel.

Rachel accepts the bud whilst asking, "What's this?"

"'The Origin of Love' from the senimal Broadway hit, 'Hedwig and the Angry Inch'," Suzie answers.

"_Seminal_," Rachel corrects her.

"That's what I said," Suzie says.

Rachel rolls her eyes. As the intro guitar starts playing in Rachel's ear, she says, "I know that song and musical. But why do you have it and where did you get it?"

"_Mee_," Suzie says, exasperated. "Like all young people of today, you _do_ know I have access to the internet and other technological devices…"

When Rachel makes to argue about the parental controls on their PC at home, Suzie hastily says, with a quick roll of her yes, "Not that I download what I'm not supposed to download. It's not like I'm _allowed_. I got this one from Anferny. Don't worry, they kind of always censor stuff for me. It's not like I get to hear cussin' or anything."

Rachel smiles now as she listens to the song, whilst listening to Suzie as well. She has heard the song before, but is curious as to what Suzie has to say. Suzie softly sings along to the song.

"_When the earth was still flat_

_And the clouds made of fire_

_And mountains stretched up to the sky_

_Sometimes higher_

_Folks roamed the earth_

_Like big rolling kegs_

_They had two sets of arms_

_They had two sets of legs_

_They had two faces peering_

_Out of one giant head_

_So they could watch all around them_

_As they talked while they read_

_And they never knew nothing of love_

_It was before the origin of love_

_The origin of love…"  
_

Suzie stops singing to say, "I like this song, Mee. Anferny tells me Plato told this story. He says it's some kind of myth or something. I think it makes sense, especially this part…"

"_And there were three sexes then_

_One that looked like two men_

_Glued up back to back_

_Called the children of the sun_

_And similar in shape and girth_

_Were the children of the earth_

_They looked like two girls_

_Rolled up in one_

_And the children of the moon_

_Were like a fork shoved on a spoon_

_They were part sun, part earth_

_Part daughter, part son_

_The origin of love…"_

"I like the part where he says we used to go around as half of a whole person, stuck to each other like Siamese twins," Suzie continues. "And I like the part where because the gods kind of got jealous they split everyone in half, and now you go through life looking for your other half, looking for that missing piece and being complete only when you find that one person that makes you whole, makes you complete."

"I like this song," Suzie repeats now, "I like this story."

They stay silent for what seems like moments as they listen to the song.

"You're kind of like that you know," Suzie says now.

"Like what?" Rachel asks.

"Like two halves of the same thing, Mee," Suzie suddenly says, looking at Rachel intently with her deep, intense, vibrant eyes. "You and Mom."

Rachel stares at Suzie, a bit surprised at Suzie's insight. She listens as Suzie continues.

"I mean, Mommy will always be Mommy and she'll always be in my heart and Mom's heart, I think," Suzie adds, looking out at the window now, thoughtfully, "But you're kind of the light to Mom's dark, you know. I mean you like bright colors and happy songs and you're kind of perky and stuff. And Mom likes dark colors and dark songs and she isn't as perky as you are. And stuff. Light and dark."

Suzie stares out at the empty, dismal landscape.

"I see how Mom lights up when she sees you," Suzie says now, after a silence, turning to look at Rachel again. "She kind of…comes alive whenever you're around. Even when you're fighting in front of other people or something and it's really embarrassing me and I want to die, Mom looks the most _alive_."

Suzie spies the ticket inspector coming towards them and so she reaches for her wallet in her bag and starts to look for her ticket as Rachel pulls out her own ticket from her handbag.

"I don't remember Mommy so much anymore, except in pictures and videos and stuff but I don't remember Mom being like that with Mommy," Suzie says. "I don't know. Maybe it was because it was different with Mommy. I mean I know she _loved_ Mommy, she's like her first love, the one she loved the most, her best friend and everything…but she loves you so much, too, Mee. I think in Mom's case, she's part of, like three of one, you know? And you're the other one, her other _half_. You _go_ together. Even when you sing, you _blend_. And the song sounds complete only when you sing it together. Like you were meant to sing things together, you know? Like you were meant to be together. So don't be sad okay, just 'cause it's your anniversary in a couple of days and she's not here. 'Cause I don't think she's going anywhere."

Rachel stares at Suzie and for the nth time, she wonders, much like Santana, how such a young girl could have so much maturity and insight for someone her age, and yet be all these other things as well: naughty and a bit of a bully and everything else. She looks at her and finds tears welling up in her eyes. There is a lump forming in her throat.

"Oh, Suzie," she says, before she gets all choked up, "Get over here and give me a hug."

Suzie smiles and goes around the table, slides over and gives Rachel a hug.

"It's going to be okay, Mee," Suzie says, hugging Rachel by the waist. "You're the Mom I've always known. And I love you. And you shouldn't be sad, Mee. Because Mom loves you, too. I know this. I've felt this. I've seen this."

Rachel gazes at their daughter and finds a warmth, coupled with the sadness, spreading through her being. _If only it were that easy_, she thinks to herself.

When the ticket inspector comes to check their tickets, Rachel and Suzie give theirs, the man goes over them and returns them, and Suzie gets hers and puts it back in her wallet.

As Suzie slips the ticket into her wallet, Rachel sees a familiar picture in Suzie's wallet: a high school picture of Rachel in senior year, a picture she gave Santana at her locker a few days before graduation.

"What is that?" Rachel says, pointing at that young picture of hers smiling back up at her.

"What? This?" Suzie asks, looking at her picture. "I got it from Mom. She had it reproduced for me. She has the original. In her wallet. She has it with her everywhere. She's had it since _forever_."

"What?"

"Yeah. She wouldn't give me the original. Says there was no way she was giving me that."

Rachel is surprised that an old high school picture of hers would be in Santana's things and in Suzie's wallet. Is even more surprised she only finds out about this now.

Presently, Rachel's phone buzzes and she receives a text from Santana asking her if they could Skype. Rachel complies, pulls out her iPad from her bag, turns it on and thankfully finds that there is wi-fi connection in the train.

She logs on to Skype and finds Santana logged on and patiently waiting for her. When she calls her, Santana immediately answers and the welcome sight, yet again, of Santana Lopez in her hotel room, greets her.

"Hey, babe!" Santana greets her cheerfully. "How are you guys doing? How is the trip so far?"

Suzie leans over to wave at Santana's image and says, "Hey, Mom! How's California?"

"Ugh, lonely without you guys!" Santana says now, rolling her eyes, "Missing you and your mother so bad! No one to scold and ground for days! No annoying little shrub to bother me!"

Suzie giggles.

"Hey, Mom?" Suzie asks now.

"What?" Santana asks now, peering into the webcam.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?" Santana asks now, wondering what Suzie is asking.

"Why didn't you teach me a thing or two? …" Suzie sings now. "You just let me go, out into the world, you never thought to share what you knew…"

Santana laughs. "Bachelor Girl, 'Buses and Trains'. And I'm very surprised and impressed you even know that song!"

Suzie laughs. "I like to win! Okay, Mee's turn!" Suzie says, turning to Rachel.

"Okay," Rachel says, thinking of a song to sing. "I got it!"

"_I need a sign to let me know you're here  
All of these lines are being crossed over the atmosphere  
I need to know that things are gonna look up  
'Cause I feel us drowning in a sea spilled from a cup…"_

"'Calling All Angels', by Train obviously!" Santana guesses correctly. "My turn...!"

"_Call you up in the middle of the night__  
__Like a firefly without a light__  
__You were there like a slow torch burning__  
__I was a key that could use a little turning…_

_So tired that I couldn't even sleep__  
__So many secrets I couldn't keep__  
__Promised myself I wouldn't weep__  
__One more promise I couldn't keep…"_

Rachel rolls her eyes. "That's a no-brainer! 'Runaway Train' by Soul Asylum."

"Darn it, you're good!" Santana says, laughing. "Hey, I really miss you guys. Seriously."

"Miss you, too, Mom! Love you!" Suzie says, before she grabs her PSP, slides out of the seat and goes to sit across Rachel.

"Um, can I call you on your cellphone?" Santana asks Rachel now, after being informed that Suzie has been distracted by her PSP yet again and is no longer interested in chatting with her mother.

"Yeah, sure," Rachel says.

They log out of Skype and presently, Rachel's phone rings. She answers it on the first ring and Santana says, "Hey, babe", by way of greeting.

Rachel smiles and says, softly, "Hey."

"How are you?" Santana asks now, worry evident in her voice.

"I'm okay," Rachel answers.

"No, you're not," Santana says, "You look and sound upset. I can tell."

"Well, there's no hiding anything from you, is there?" Rachel asks now.

"Rach…" Santana says now. "Please don't be like that."

"Sorry," Rachel says.

"I miss you, Rach," Santana says now, softly, "I really, really do. I shouldn't have come here. We've never had a normal holiday, the three of us."

Because Rachel does not know what to say, she only says, "Yeah."

"I'm sorry," Santana says now. "I will really try to come home for Christmas, okay? I mean it's getting a bit busy here, but I will come home, okay?"

"Okay," Rachel says. She wants to believe, really believe that Santana will come home for Christmas this time, but she does not want to hope.

Santana sighs on the other end of the line. Rachel knows Santana can sense her mood but does not really want to argue on the phone.

"I love you," Santana simply says.

"Yeah," Rachel says. "Me, too."

"Okay," Santana says, seeming not to know what else to say. "Can you put Suzie on the phone, please?"

"Okay," Rachel says, then handing the phone to Suzie. "Your Mom wants to talk to you."

Suzie nods as she accepts the phone and places it on her ear, cradling it between her head and shoulder as she plays her PSP. "Hey, Mom. What's up?"

She listens intently as she answers, "Okay", "Yeah", "I will", "Got it", "No problem", "Yes, Mom, I promise", "Aaaaw, do I _havta_?!" in between pauses, alternately whining, groaning and answering normally, whilst listening to her Mom as she plays on her PSP.

She then puts the PSP down and holds the phone with one hand. "Yes, Mom, I will, I promise," she says now, then sighs and says, "Yes, Mom, I promise to take care of Mee. That's what I do, isn't it? Kidding, Mom. Okay. Love you, too, Mom!"

She returns the phone to Rachel, who puts back on her ear and says, "Hey."

"Hey," Santana says, now. "I've got to go, but I'll call you soon, okay? Love you."

* * *

A few hours later, they arrive in Lima, Ohio early dusk.

The air is cold, the sky dark and cloudy and a frosty, bitter breeze is blowing from the north. Rachel draws her thick jacket to herself as she moves to make sure Suzie's jacket is buttoned up as well. She makes a fuss over Suzie keeping warm as Suzie whines, "Mee, I'm _twelve_, I can totally do this by myself, okay?"

Rachel smiles, stepping back as Suzie puts on her mittens, her cap and zips her jacket up to her neck.

They are standing on the platform of the train station and now make for the entrance, going through the lobby and out into the parking lot.

They hail a taxicab and Rachel tells the driver to take them to Lima Heights. The driver nods, pushes the meter down and drives away from the train station.

* * *

The cab takes them to Lima Heights a few minutes later, where they find themselves standing by the porch of the Lopezes residence, luggage in hand as they both stamp their feet in the cold. Rachel reaches for the doorbell and pushes it. A pleasant Christmas tone plays as the buzz rings.

The house is a bright, white, two-storey affair now decorated with Christmas lights on the window, a wreath on the door, and some Christmas ornaments out front.

Presently, they hear footsteps before the door opens and Mrs. Lopez's small, compact frame appear, wide, welcoming, delighted grin on her face as she sees who is at the front door.

"Hey, you two, you're here!" she says, excitedly, as she steps back to let both come in.

Rachel and Suzie smile back as they come in, luggage in tow. Mrs. Lopez moves to hug both Rachel and Suzie before she reaches for the doorknob and quickly slams the front door shut.

"Cold!" Mrs. Lopez exclaims, rubbing her two hands together.

The two follow her down the hallway, and turn to the left, where the living room is.

The warmth of the Lopez home greets her and Suzie as she takes in the decorations, the Christmas tree at the far corner, the manger below the Christmas tree surrounded by gifts, the red Christmas socks hung by the mantel, the Christmas lights, the Christmas inspired curtains, mats and couch cover.

Dr. Lopez is sitting on the couch, watching a game on the television with Santana's brother, Carlos and Carlos' son, Carlitos.

"Hey, you guys. Look what the cat dragged in!" Mrs. Lopez announces.

"Hey!_Mija_!" Carlos says, "Get over here and give _Tio_ Carlos a hug! You're getting so big!"

"Hey, Suzie!" Dr. Lopez says as well, "You're looking so much like a _señorita_ these days!"

"Looking so much like your moms more and more each day, aren't you?" Dr. Lopez continues as Suzie comes over to give her grandfather and uncle a hug.

"Hey, Rachel! _Buenas noches!_" Dr. Lopez says now to Rachel, who is still standing by the doorway of the living room.

"Hey, _Abuelo, Tio_ Carlos," Suzie says as she hugs them both, then plops down between them to watch the boxing match on the television. She gives Carlitos a fist pump.

Rachel smiles. "Good evening, Dr. Lopez, Carlos."

"Hey, Rach," Carlos says, big grin on his face. "What's up? How are you?"

"I'm good," Rachel says.

"Great", "Good", the two men say as they return to their beers and the boxing match on the television.

"Well, don't just stand there, Rach, get over here and come watch TV with us," Carlos says, indicating with his hand that she should go sit beside them. "Cruz is really beating up that _gringo_. He's gay you know. I mean Cruz, not the _gringo._"

"Err," Rachel says now, not really into boxing, finds it a savage, unnecessary sport, but knowing that the whole Lopez household, including Santana, are very much into boxing. "I'd love to, but…"

Suzie now notices that Rachel is still standing by the doorway. So she gets up, curious as Rachel continues to stand uncertainly by the entrance to the living room. She and Mrs. Lopez come over as Rachel clasps her hands together.

"Where are you going?" Suzie says, suspiciously. "Aren't you staying over?"

"I have to see my dads," Rachel says, hesitantly.

"That doesn't make sense," Suzie says, confused, "You're not going to just leave me are you?"

"I've got to…see my family, too," Rachel says.

"But we're your family, too, Mee," Suzie points out. "You belong here, Mee, with us. I don't understand. I mean, if you're getting weirded out, don't be, it's okay, Mee."

Mrs. Lopez stares at Rachel. "_Mija_, are you okay? I know Santana's not around, but you know you're always welcome here, right? There's always a place for you here. Always."

There is a lump in Rachel's throat now. "I know, Mrs. Lopez, thank you. But I have to…I have…"

Tears are welling up in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I just can't…I'm sorry."

And she turns, grabs her things and rushes out of the Lopezes' house.

* * *

A few minutes later, instead of the Berrys' house, she finds herself on Quinn's front porch steps, kicking herself for how stupid she is being, for how she has acted at the Lopezes' and for finding herself in front of Quinn's porch now.

She does not understand why she is here, finds it embarrassing really. Quinn is Santana's friend, Santana's _closest_ friend, and though they are also friends, Quinn has always been more Santana's friend than hers. And to find herself now, in front of their house, seeking sanctuary, is very strange for Rachel.

But she could not go back to the Lopezes'. And she could not really face her dads either, looking upset and depressed as she does now. There are a whirlwind of emotions going inside her now, sadness, confusion, anxiety, love, and a whole plethora of other feelings and she cannot really explain them and she feels she needs to avoid everyone related to her, by blood or otherwise.

She knows what her parents are going to say anyway. It is one of those things that she knows they will raise: that being with Santana has changed her so much, her relationship with Santana has made her leave Broadway, has made her start teaching high school, has made her go from vegan to vegetarian, has made her start eating meat once in a while even, and her being depressed and upset right now will be attributed to her relationship with Santana as well. It is not something Rachel wants to deal with tonight, aside from the perpetual argument they have whenever she comes for a visit, "If she loves you so much, Rachel, then why isn't she marrying you? Our daughter's not good enough for her, is that it? I mean, at least Finn was ready to marry you senior year. And your husband was so ready to marry you, too."

She is wont to point out that Finn was also ready to dump her on the day of her wedding day, and that they had actually _schemed_ to stop the wedding from happening in the first place and that her husband had been ready to dump her for yet another, younger, duck-faced Victoria's Secret supermodel girlfriend.

They had discussed this already before, Santana and her, on the day her divorce papers finally came through, the first year they started dating.

"Not that I'm against marriage or anything, but that just goes to show, marriage doesn't guarantee long lasting relationships. You don't need a piece of paper to prove you'll be with someone for the rest of your life," Santana had said dismissively, after seeing the divorce papers. "It's just a piece of paper."

At the time, Rachel had wholeheartedly agreed. Burned by a failed marriage, she had not been particularly keen on getting married again right after having gone through a failed marriage and a divorce. She had been estranged from her husband for a while before they had started a trial separation of a few months. It eventually ended in talks of divorce, and by the time she had reconnected with Santana, she was finalizing the divorce and was not so keen on thinking about commitment and marriage.

A wedding, a ceremony, a marriage certificate, yes, they were just rituals and symbols of committed relationships, Rachel had agreed then, but that was five years ago, and as she fell more deeply in love with Santana, her thoughts on re-marriage had changed. It had become harder to deny that each day with Santana had made her want to make this commitment more official, more legal, more permanent. But she had sworn off marriage, and Santana had respected that. Santana had been married herself, to Brittany, for the longest time, but she herself had been recovering from losing Brittany and so it seemed more sensible to just take things slow, try a long distance relationship, and if that worked out, try living together without the complications a marriage would bring. But now Rachel does not know how to bring up the fact that she has changed her mind, that she wants more now, that she wants, more than just being girlfriend and lover, to be wife, to be lifetime partner, to have a ring on her finger that would symbolize and celebrate that love she has for Santana. It is crazy and unnerving and sometimes she does not understand it, but she loves Santana and has never wanted something like this so much in her life.

If Rachel is truly honest with herself, she does not really want to "rock the boat", to shake her relationship with Santana out of its comfort zone into a more committed one. She is afraid Santana will refuse, will reject her, since Santana seems to be happier with the set-up they have right now. She thinks Santana may not relish the idea of being related by marriage to the Berrys anyway, since though they have been civil to Santana, they have not actually warmed up to Santana and find the addition of a child in her relationship a bit odd as well, even after five years of being together.

She sighs, briefly debates the wisdom of spending the night uninvited at Quinn's. But she has called Quinn in the cab on the way here, has texted her repeatedly if it is okay to spend a night at their place, and Quinn had replied, on her nth text, with much exasperation and annoyance, thus: "Yes, Rachel, it's okay. Stop texting me, I'm busy. Just come over."

She reaches for the doorbell and pushes the button. The doorbell rings and she steps back, stamps her foot on the porch steps before she hears footsteps and voices and she hears the door being unlocked and the welcome face of Quinn's face and blonde hair revealed as the door is pulled back, a cute, little blonde baby clutching her hand standing by her side.

"Hey," she says by way of greeting. "Merry Christmas."

Quinn grins, adjusts her hold on the baby, and says, "Hey, Merry Christmas," before she pulls the door wide open, steps back and motions for Rachel to come in.

Rachel steps into the house, luggage and bag in tow, and for a second, looking at Quinn, Rachel is quiet, before she bursts out in tears.

Quinn steps forward and gives Rachel a hug. She steps back, wordlessly closes the door and asks Rachel, "What happened?"

* * *

**_Author's end notes:_**

**_That's it for Chapter 17! Hope you enjoyed reading it! Hope that will tide you over til the next chapter comes! Which will be hopefully soon, as I do like to update regularly. :)_**

**_Again, as always many thanks for reading and looking forward to your reviews for this chapter. :)_**

**_Also, just want to say many thanks to everyone for taking the time to review the last chapter! :) Your reviews were, as always, quite surprisingly thoughtful, enlightening and interesting. _**

**_Also, I think this journey might take a bit longer than I expected. The characters and the story itself kind of started taking over. :) Took a life of its own, as it were. :) Thank you for your patience though! As I mentioned, it's already finished in my head, it's writing it down that's hard! ;) _**

**_Also, don't be hating on Santana y'all! :)_**

**_To CarolineSC RE: Fun chapter – that's good to know! :) Re: I enjoyed seeing Rachel and Suzie together without Santana, the love between them – Yes, they are quite fun to write together! RE: Looking forward to Christmas, Santana, proposal, groveling – Well, you've got to stick around to see what's next. :) Thanks for reading! :)_**

**_To ichigo111981 – Re: Suzie and the glee kids freaking hilarious – They are, aren't they? :) Wanted a fun, hilarious, alternative Glee. :) Re: Suzie and Kate cute together – yes, they are. Re: Complicated Santana and Rachel situation – Thank you for your thoughtful insights. Thanks for reading and reviewing. Have to stick around to see what happens next! :)_**

**_To SoFlaComet - RE: Suzie and Kate – Hope this chapter answers that! :) Re: Liking how Santana refers to Suzie as "ours" including Rachel, it's very sweet – It is, isn't it? Wanted to show a positive portrayal of a stepfamily, so. :) Re: Your insights on Santana – I like your analysis. Gotta stick around to see what's going to happen next though! ;) Re: I'm enjoying the journey you are taking these two on –That's good to know. This was the kind of journey I wanted these two to go on. Glad you are enjoying it. :) RE: Seeing more of Santana's thoughts to help with the annoyance factor...lol – hahaha! Interesting, but got my hands full with this story (and work) right now, so can't promise anything, but we'll see. :) Re: Sorry for the ramble – No worries! Ramble away! RE: Thanks for sharing - You're welcome. Thanks for reading! :)_**

**_To kutee – Re: How so you keep find way to make my laugh and cry all in the same chapter – hahah! It's a gift. :) Kidding. Thanks for the compliment! Re: Glee Club is the best – Good to know! I love this Glee Club, too! Less fighting, more teasing! RE: Ruth my is so Sister Act 2- Only have a vague recollection of Sister Act 2 now, just included this separate from the movie. :) RE: Baz is still my heart that boy doesn't know how funny he is and the line about pecks and abs too much - I'm glad. I love that boy, too! He's a fun character to write for! Re: I love that the kids sing to Rachel and found her on YouTube – good to know! It was only a matter of time!_**  
**_RE: How Love Actually can you get – hahha! I'm sorry, I couldn't help it! Couldn't resist a gay version of the movie, as that was the only one lacking from it! haha! It would also help if you imagine Kate as the girl Liam Neeson's boy is crushing on. :) RE: Kate and Suzie – hope this chapter answers that! As for Santana – have to stick around to find out. :)_**

**_Re: Sweet Honey and The Rock – Yes, they are one of my favorites, too! Their version of "Redemption Song" is simply one of the best I've heard! So bummed Glee couldn't feature this kind of music instead! So I included it here! Anyway, thanks for reading and reviewing!_**

**_To nickd93 – Re: Great update! Love this story! – Good to know, and thanks for reading and reviewing! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, too!_**

**_To dayabieberxo – Re: Loved this! – Good to know! RE: Kate's parents and Suzie – hope this chapter answers that! ;) Re: Being mad at Santana if she doesn't make it home for Christmas – Have got to stick around and find out! :) Hope this chapter answers your questions, and also hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for reading and reviewing! :)_**

**_To DragonsWillFly – Dragon! Thanks for going over this with me! And for sticking with me thus far! Much appreciate it! ;) You are awesome as always! ;)_**

**_Also, special acknowledgment to "Symposium" by Plato for the story of the origin of soul mates. _**

**_Songs featured in this chapter:_**

**_"The Scientist" by Coldplay (Sorry, still upset over the Season 4, Episode 4 "Break-up" episode of Glee. My beta wants me to stop re-watching this ep. Must stop listening to this song, too! But I like the Glee version, best song in awhile. Just ignore Finn, Kurt and Blaine's part.)_**

**_"The Origin of Love" from the musical "Hedwig and the Angry Inch"_**

**_"Buses and Trains" by Bachelor Girl_**

**_"Calling All Angels" by Train_**

**_"Runaway Train" by Soul Asylum_**


	18. Q's

**_Author's note: Team Pezberry (and Suzie and Kate :)) Chapter 18 is up! Happy reading!_**

* * *

Quinn and Rachel sit across each other at "Q's", Quinn's husband's restaurant and bar. They had gone there for dinner and conversation, because, Quinn says, "I don't want you grossing out my baby with talk about your love life."

But Quinn is smiling as she is saying this and Quinn's husband, Jeffrey, a tall, big shouldered bear of a man with a mop of auburn hair and soft features, shakes his head and smiles apologetically at Rachel. "Sorry about my wife, she gets weird sometimes," Jeffrey says.

Rachel grins. "I know. Went to high school with her."

"I heard," Jeffrey says, "Heard she was worse then. Glad I dodged that part of her life! How'd you survive that one?"

"I have absolutely no idea!" Rachel says, laughing.

So now Rachel finds herself having dinner with Quinn at "Q's".

Rachel had refused to talk about why she had suddenly cried that day at Quinn's doorstep. She had spent that night (and the night after that) in Quinn's basement, all alone on the couch, crying herself to sleep. She had spent the day after withdrawn and quiet, and Quinn had been prudent and considerate enough to just leave her alone, busy with her son, her many community activities, the restaurant and leftover homework from Congress. Rachel had turned off her mobile phone and had refused to take calls from everyone, and Quinn had not pried into it as well.

But the day after, when Quinn could not stand Rachel moping around anymore, she had told Rachel, "That's it, we're going out tonight. Anniversary or not, Santana or no Santana, you are just going to have to _stop_ moping around the house! It's depressing!"

Rachel reluctantly agrees to go out to dinner with Quinn and they troop to the restaurant with Jeffrey's full support and understanding. Quinn has chosen their restaurant because, as she says, the advantage of the restaurant being a conjugal property and hence part hers, is the fact that she has full control of the premises, and thus can close it whenever she wants to, business profit be damned. Thus just before nine in the evening, the staff let the last of the customers go, put up the "Closed" sign, start shutting down the place, clearing, spraying and sanitizing dirty tables and chairs and putting the chairs upside down on the tables, mopping the floor, cleaning up the counter, the kitchen and the restrooms, taking out the trash, drawing the curtains together, locking the front door and back. Quinn has given most of the staff the night off, except for her bartender cum waiter for the night, Merlott, a pleasant, charming, fit man in his thirties with shaggy, gray and white hair, sharp cheekbones and an easygoing smile and demeanor that is perfect for those loners, drifters and tired workers who come to "Q's" to unwind and unload their problems at the bar. A couple of televisions hang suspended above Merlott's head, along with wineglasses of all shapes and sizes, and bottles of wine, tequila, vodka, gin, rhum, brandy, whiskey and so on. The television screens usually broadcast sports events, but as the customers have all gone home, the television is playing karaoke songs, lyrics streaming from one end of the screen to the next, with backgrounds of women in various states of undress parading down the beach. Quinn rolls her eyes when Rachel makes a comment about how the karaoke music videos of half-clad women are degrading, sexist and misogynistic.

A couple of kitchen staff, the cook and his assistant have stayed behind as well. The "Q's Bar and Restaurant" is simple, not ostentatious, with a "Cabin in the Woods" cozy kind of ambiance, chairs, tables, the floor, its walls, the counter, made of varnished pinewood. The tables are covered with red and white checkered table cloth. Simple, framed countryside paintings hang on the walls. Seeing as it is almost Christmas, the restaurant is blazing with Christmas lights and overflowing with Christmas decors, wreaths, mistletoes, faux Yule logs, and a Santa Claus, his reindeer and sleigh off to the side. The bar counter, where Merlott stands, obsessively wiping the counter off with a rag, has wooden stools and near it is the billiards table, a dartboard, an old jukebox, and an old, random piano that is still working.

Rachel and Quinn sit by the window, halfway between the main door and the bar. Rachel's back is turned away from the bar, where the television screen is, whilst Quinn has an unobstructed view of the bar and occasionally glances up to see what is playing on the screen.

Rachel had asked Quinn if the staff do not mind staying behind, and Quinn tells her, with a wink, that they get overtime pay, so they do not mind it at all.

Rachel is trying to finish the pesto she has ordered and Quinn is eating fries. Rachel is drinking some wine that Quinn had gotten from their wine cellar. Quinn rolls her eyes again as Rachel comments about which wines are the best, talking briefly about the California vineyard wine tasting tours she once went to and the nice, aged wines she has tasted while there. Quinn threatens to take the free wine away if Rachel does not shut up about it. So Rachel does.

Rachel senses that Quinn is waiting for her to elaborate more on what she has briefly said at Quinn's home – that she and Santana had a fight. Rachel has not offered any more additional information then beyond the fact that they had a fight and she is not offering any more now. After the adolescent disaster that was her high school love life, Rachel had learned not to wear her heart on her sleeve, vowed not to talk about her feelings to other people so much, and having had relationships, some more sensitive than others, she had also vowed not to reveal too many details about her relationships to friends, especially if the person she is involved with has common friends with her. This was especially true of that one imprudent drunken tryst she once had with Santana freshmen year in college. Had that been brought out, that would have destroyed many lives, and though she does not know what would have happened had she explored that encounter then, she knows it would have changed everything, including Suzie's presence in her life. Plus, she knows from experience that talking about one's relationships with one's mutual friends never ends well and always ends in awkward encounters. She knows Quinn is different, and Quinn will understand, but she is also Santana's closest friend, and that makes it more complicated. Amongst other things. The Rachel of late may still be a lot like the Rachel of that distant long ago, but there are some aspects of the present Rachel that is quite different from that one as well: she is a bit quieter, a bit more world-weary, sadder but wiser, and she has learned, by trial and error, how to survive the many challenges life brings her way.

Quinn is quiet, tactful, understanding, never pushing for more information, unlike the Quinn she remembers from high school. Rachel is grateful for this. She does not know what she would say anyway if Quinn had asked. She suspects Quinn has an idea anyway as she and Santana _do_ talk about their relationships to each other and she has this vague suspicion Santana may actually have been calling Quinn the past couple of days, or even before, especially since Rachel has turned off her mobile phone and has gone AWOL on her, Suzie and their families.

Presently Quinn smiles and asks, "Hey, man-hands, you going to eat that or are you just going to sit there and stare your pasta down?"

Rachel looks up, realizes she has stopped twirling the pasta on her fork and has, instead, seemed to have spaced out. "Huh, what?"

"You okay?" Quinn asks now, looking at Rachel, curiosity in her eyes.

Rachel shrugs. "Yeah, why?"

"I just called you man-hands and you didn't flinch," Quinn says.

Rachel grins. "The novelty wore off."

"Damn, gotta find a new nickname for you, then," Quinn says, "Because somehow, 'loser' just doesn't quite cut it either."

Rachel looks up to see Quinn smiling at her. It has taken her a while but she is now getting used to Quinn's strange, unique brand of humor, if one may call it that, but she is glad, again, for the fact that Quinn is here, and that she is here for Rachel. She finds it strange that she feels more comfortable talking to Quinn about her relationship issues actually, than Kurt, even though she and Kurt are close. Kurt is a bit like her parents, she thinks, when it comes to Santana, and the only reason they are being civil to each other is because of Rachel, for Rachel's sake. Had she brought up the fact that they have had an argument, he would have encouraged her to break up with Santana posthaste. He has probably been waiting for her to break up with Santana since they got together five years ago. The only reason he showed up on their doorstep last Thanksgiving was because this was the only way he could see Rachel these days, by visiting them over in Brooklyn. Rachel suspects there might be some vague resentment somewhere inside Kurt for Santana, like Santana has taken away that one best friend Kurt has had since their early days in New York.

Rachel smiles now by way of acknowledgement. "You can always call me dwarf if you want," she offers.

Quinn laughs. "Naw, that's Santana's thing. That's not me. 'Geek' always works though."

Rachel does not know what else to say, so she smiles. There is a silence again. Rachel glances at her watch. It is not even ten and already they have run out of things to say to each other.

"She's worried about you, you know," Quinn suddenly says now, by way of breaking the silence.

Rachel looks up, her interest piqued, waits for Quinn to continue.

"She's been calling me non-stop, you know," Quinn says, sighing. "And seeing as you refuse to take her calls, that just gives her more reason to call me, to ask me if you've eaten your meals, if you're crying and making that funny face you make when you're crying, if you're going around moping to sad songs or something. She told me to keep you company tonight."

Rachel smiles a small, sad smile. "I'm sorry."

Quinn waves her apology away, smiling. "It's fine. I guess I'm stuck with you both, seeing as you're dating one of my closest friends. Ugh. You guys need to make up already. I need you guys to leave me alone. This is almost as bad as that time she stupidly broke up with Brittany her freshmen year in college, because of some stupid energy exchange crap. I mean what the hell was _that_?"

Rachel hears nothing but the last part of Quinn's statement, about Santana breaking up with Brittany her freshmen year and as Santana rarely talks about her life with Brittany, she wants to ask about it, but she is afraid to.

Quinn answers her unspoken question though. "But anyway, they got back together. Santana fought for that relationship like her life depended on it. And boy did she put up a fight for that relationship! I think once they kind of started dating other people, Santana kind of realized her mistake and tried to win Brittany back. And the rest, as you know, is history."

Quinn sees the bottle of wine is almost empty so she motions for Merlott to get another wine from the basement.

Presently, they hear a tap on the window and both see Sam, blonde head in a dorky skull cap, completely bundled up in winter gear, standing outside their window, shivering.

"Oh, god, did you invite Sam?" Rachel asks now.

"No," Quinn answers, somewhat defensively, then recapitulates when Rachel glares at her, and she says, "Okay, okay, I did, but only because Santana asked me to. She figures the more the merrier. She'd have called Kurt, too, but Kurt might just encourage you to dump her, and that would obviously royally piss her off. And well, families are off-limits tonight, so I guess you're stuck with us."

"I kind of was hoping to be alone tonight, actually," Rachel says.

Quinn shakes her head. "Bad idea. Plus Santana would probably not be happy about that. We'd probably have some royal smackdown or something just 'cause I let her girl go around moping by herself."

Quinn now reaches out to put her hand on top of Rachel's free hand. "You shouldn't be alone tonight."

Quinn smiles at her, then pulls off her away from Rachel's. "And I mean that in a very non-gay way."

Rachel laughs. "Your catfights in high school _were_ the best, weren't they?" she comments, by way of changing the subject.

Quinn grins.

"Except for the fact where she kind of always beats your ass," Rachel adds, making Quinn's grin vanish. "Sorry, it's true. She was totally Alpha female in high school."

"Yes, she was that," Sam says, by way of introduction, as he comes up from behind holding a paper bag. "If it's Santana you're talking about, very much the Alpha female!"

Merlott comes over with the wine at the same time that Sam comes in.

"Hey, dork," Quinn says, by way of greeting.

"Good evening to you, too, Quinn," Sam says, grinning, setting the paper bag on the table, and moving over to give Quinn, then Rachel a hug. "Hey, Rachel."

"Hey, Sam," Rachel greets.

"What's that?" Quinn gestures to the paper bag Sam is holding.

Sam pulls out the contents of the bag, to reveal bottles of vodka, tequila and gin.

Quinn and Rachel both grimace as he sets the bottles on the table.

"Sam, if you haven't noticed this is a _bar_, we do have _liquor_ here," Quinn adds now. "You didn't have to bring your own."

"Heard there's some major drama going on, and I'm here to help you get wasted!" Sam announces, grinning, ignoring Quinn's statement.

Quinn rolls her eyes. "You don't even _drink_," Quinn points out. "You can barely keep your alcohol down, and now you want us all to have some kind of drinking spree?"

"I do, too…drink," Sam says, defensively. When Quinn glares at him, he says, "Okay, okay, I don't drink, but that hasn't stopped me before! And just for Rachel and Santana, I'm so drinking tonight!"

Sam motions to Merlott to give them a bucket of ice, shot glasses and any kind of juice, soda or drink that they have. When Merlott arrives with Sam's requests and Sam starts opening the vodka, Rachel's first concrete thought is that this is probably a bad idea, she has never been good with alcohol, and a bottle of wine cooler pretty much can get her drunk in a matter of minutes, but she figures she might as well, it is her fifth anniversary with Santana – she might as well drown her sorrow in drink.

When Sam hands her the glass of vodka, she downs it so quickly Sam and Quinn stare at her open-mouthed as she makes a face like someone who has just swallowed a cactus, sticks out her tongue and makes a strangled sound, midway between gagging and heaving, like a choked, "Gah!" and "Aaaargh!" Sam describes it as her strangled "Gollum" sound, if Gollum were German and was throwing up in a barf bag mid-flight.

The liquid burns through her throat like fire and she fights its taste and the sudden urge to vomit every time she downs a glass, but it gives her something to do other than think about Santana. After Sam replenishes her glass with two more shots of vodka and she makes the same face, sticks out her tongue and makes the same sound, Quinn cannot resist saying, "Okay, if you're going to make that sound every time you drink, I'm going to have to tie you up and gag you."

Rachel apologizes but spends the whole night making the same strangled "Gollum" sound whenever she drinks a glass of strong liquor.

The stereo is now playing "I'm Officially Missing You" by Tamia and it makes Rachel sad and miss, hate and love Santana even more, all at the same time. Quinn notices this and motions to Merlott to change the music, but Sam notices it as well and says, "Don't change it, let Rachel let off some steam or something! Come on, Rachel, sing the song!"

They lean back as Sam indicates that the volume be turned up, and Rachel starts singing the song,

"_All I see is raindrops _

_Falling from the rooftops…"_

As Rachel sings, she cannot help the tears that well up in her eyes so she turns so that she is facing the screen and not Sam and Quinn. She sings all her feelings into the song, not caring if her voice cracked or if her voice choked up from the lump in her throat, and she gets through the song. This is followed, aptly enough, by Sinead O'Connor's "Nothing Compares To You". And she sings it with as much gusto as she did with the previous song.

"_It's been seven hours and fifteen days  
Since you took your love away  
I go out every night and sleep all day  
Since you took your love away  
Since you been gone I can do whatever I want  
I can see whomever I choose  
I can eat my dinner in a fancy restaurant  
But nothing  
I said nothing can take away these blues…_"

Hours later, in which Rachel seems to have sang all the break-up songs in the songbook, from Sisqo's "Incomplete", to Leona Lewis' "Better in Time", Michelle Branch's "Goodbye to You" and Brian McKnight's "Still", Quinn and Sam are ready to wrestle the microphone away from Rachel, but Patti Austin's "In My Life" starts to play and Rachel drunkenly says, she wants to sing the song, to the heated equally drunken protests of the two, and the amused smiles of Merlott and the kitchen staff, who have been invited to join the little soiree, but have discreetly declined. Merlott though is keeping an eye on all three and make sure they do not pass out from too much alcohol. Merlott is now the designated driver as well.

"_Oh, the music is sweet_

_But the song ain't complete_

_Now in my life_

_Girl in my life_

_Something is missing…"_

Rachel is drunk, but her voice is never so powerful, so strong as it is tonight and she sings the song like her life depended on it, pours out her pain and pathos into the song, like her heart is shattering, like her very life is ending, like her soul has left and all she has left is an emptiness, a hollowness, where once there was life.

"_In my life there ain't no melody, oh no_

_In my life there ain't no harmony_

_To help me sing a song…_

_All I need is a cue when I'm waiting for you_

_Here in my life_

_Girl in my life_

_You are the melody…_

'_Cause in my life_

_You are the song…"_

There is a silence as they listen to her song. Quinn, Sam, Merlott, the cook and his assistant, stop to listen to Rachel and when she finishes the song, everyone is astonished, mesmerized by her voice but she only smiles as if nothing has happened, and happily accepts the glass being offered to her and downs the drink with the appropriate facial expression and sound she makes.

After she burns through the songbook and finds that there are no more sad, break-up songs to sing, she succeeds in making Sam, Merlott and the other two staff, push the piano to the center of the floor, just in front of the counter, and Rachel starts pounding the piano, playing tunes from the Broadway musicals she loves, to Sam's delight and Quinn's horror and strangled, "Oh, god…oh no..." Rachel gives them a running commentary as she sings each song, with Sam watching her and egging her on with glass after glass of vodka as Quinn rests her head on her hands, leans over and says, "Kill me now…"

Rachel starts with "Les Miserables", and sings "On My Own", which, she reminds Quinn, was the first song she ever uploaded to her myspace page, the page that, to this day, she tells them, she does not know why Quinn and Santana would spam and troll. She then sings "I Dreamed A Dream", the song she sang with her birth mother that one time, "Last Night of the World" from "Miss Saigon" ("As sang by the phenomenal Lea Salonga!" she says), "Out Here On My Own" from "Fame", "I'll Cover You" from "Rent", "Memories" from "Cats", just because the character who sings that song reminds her of a feline Blance DuBois and "I Don't Know How to Love Him" from "Jesus Christ Superstar" and changing the pronoun "him" to "her".

When she sings the last song, Sam stands up and says, "Enough of that! Sing 'My Headband'!" Then he stops and says, "Or better yet, 'Trouty Mouth'!"

Rachel rests her fingers on the ivory keys and asks, "I thought you hated 'Trouty Mouth'?"

"Well, yeah," Sam admits, "But that has to be better than all those depressing Broadway tunes you've been singing!"

"Oh, okay," Rachel says then turns back to the piano and starts to play more upbeat Broadway tunes such as "The Heat is on in Saigon" from "Miss Saigon", "Master of the House" from "Les Miserables", "Waiting for Life to Begin" from "Once On this Island" and "My Favorite Things" from "The Sound of Music".

When Sam realizes halfway through the first song, that Rachel is _still_ singing Broadway tunes, he stops, and says, "Oh, no, I meant…" but by then, it was too late.

Later, in which Rachel, Quinn and Sam are sufficiently wasted so as not to be able to finish the bottle of gin, the empty bottle of vodka, tequila and soda on the table, the half-empty bottle of gin beside them, Sam is busy bothering Merlott and singing whatever comes up on the screen, making up the lyrics or the melody as he sees fit. He is currently singing Spandau Ballet's "Through the Barricades" and insists that where the singer sings, "We made our love on wasteland", it is "We made our love on _Graceland_" and Merlott is having a grand old time laughing at Sam insisting the lyrics are all wrong. "But how would you make your love on Graceland though?" Merlott asks, to which Sam shrugs and slurs, "I dunno, I didn't write the lyrics, you know." Sam punctuates the singing by regaling Merlott with his impersonations.

"Check it out, I can do James Earl Jones," he slurs now, and says, in what he thinks is a James Earl Jones voice, "This morning I woke up and decided to swallow the sun."

Merlott only raises his eyebrows and says, "Ooooh-kay…"

"Oh, oh, I can do Sean Connery, too!" he says, making Merlott shake his head with a smile.

A debate ensues after, in which he and Merlott discuss who the best James Bond is and Sam turns to Rachel now and shouts, "Hey, Rachel, who's the best James Bond?"

"Sean Connery," Rachel shouts back, without missing a beat. When Quinn looks at her with a puzzled expression on her face, Rachel quickly says, "Well, that's who Santana thinks is the best James Bond anyway."

Sam turns back to Merlott with a triumphant smile and says, "See?"

Quinn and Rachel sit across each other, blinking their eyes, trying to stay awake, as each one tries to carry on a slurred conversation and failing to do so. Rachel's body feels very loose, like it is made of liquid, or lead, and she cannot sit up straight and is clinging to the table like she is clinging for dear life. The world does not seem to want to stay still, insisting instead to spin around and it just makes her even dizzier. She fights the intermittent waves of nausea that hit her.

She is drunk and she knows it and she likes it. Especially because the one thing that liquor helps her with is being able to articulate a lot of things she normally cannot articulate, least of all in front of either Santana or Quinn, but _especially_ Santana.

Presently, Rachel suddenly says, a slur in her speech, "She always seems busy."

Quinn is silent for a spell before she admits, "Yeah, she's a workaholic like that."

"With Miranda _Vanderbilt_."

Quinn half-smiles and nods her head. "Ah, I see."

"And they're off in San Francisco gallivanting God knows where and I'm playing housewife and taking care of our daughter – well, her daughter, but she's my daughter, too, darn it!"

"Sweetie, you do know there's probably nothing going on between them, right?" Quinn asks patiently.

"You said _'probably'_."

Quinn blinks. "Damn you and your semantics! Okay, there's _absolutely_ nothing going on between them."

Rachel stares at Quinn intently. "How do you know?"

Quinn shrugs. "I just know."

Quinn rolls her eyes as Merlott comes over to clear the table of the bottles of liquor and replaces them with steaming cups of strong, black coffee. "Remind me not to let this one get too drunk next time," Quinn says to the bartender, who nods and smiles before he leaves.

"How do you _know_?" Rachel insists.

"This is Santana Lopez we're talking about here!" Quinn says. "She fell in love with her best friend without even knowing she was falling in love with her!"

"Ugh, yes, I know, I know," Rachel says now. "The woman I can never live up to."

Quinn stares at her. "Rachel, you know how much I don't want to get into this. I mean Brittany was my _friend_, Santana's one of my closest friends, and since you guys are going out, I guess you're kind of my friend, too."

"I know, I'm sorry," Rachel says. "But what does Brittany have that I don't have?"

"I can't even begin to tell you how much I don't want to answer that."

Rachel seems not to have heard her. "I mean, how come Brittany got to marry her and be the wife and I get to be perpetual _girlfriend_ only?"

"Rach – "

"I mean…god, _marry_ me already!" Rachel says, oblivious to what Quinn is trying to say. "And if you don't want to, then, just…let me go…I know people cheat on their partners all the time, but just don't cheat on me with a second-rate Brittany look-alike!"

Quinn puts her hand on Rachel's arm to get Rachel's attention, and when Rachel looks up, Quinn smiles and says softly, "You know it's not like it's the Mesozoic era. You _can_ actually propose to Santana if you want to."

"Yeah, but what if she turns me down?"

"After all this time, you think she'd do that? Girl's crazy about you. She'd have to be if she's willing to put up with all your drama!"

There is a silence between them, punctuated by Sam's very loud, very out of tune singing in the background. He is trying to sing "Time of My Life" from the Dirty Dancing soundtrack, and stumbles through the lyrics, punctuated by snickers and barely concealed guffaws from the staff and Merlott trying his best not to roar with laughter.

"I feel like Blanche Dubois," Rachel suddenly says, out of the blue, looking at Quinn with wide, suddenly frightened eyes.

"Who?" Quinn blinks, tries to focus on her and takes a sip of the coffee. She screws up her face, knits her brows and says, in between sips, "That old hag in 'A Streetcar – "

"'Named Desire'! Yes!" Rachel says, excitedly, making a face as she sips the strong and bitter coffee.

"'Streetcar Named Desire'! Yes!" Sam says, when he catches the tail end of their conversation. "Awesome! You know who could totally play Marlon Brando's iconic role? Elmer Fudd!" Then he walks towards the center of the restaurant, feet wide apart, raises his hands up to the ceiling, with the microphone still in one hand, throws his head back, and screams, "_'Stewaaaaa!_' _'Stewaaaaaa!_'"

Quinn and Rachel glare at Sam to the continued snickers of the staff and they turn back to their conversation as he goes back to his drunken singing.

"I feel like some washed out old loser Broadway Star who can't even get her _girlfriend_ to marry her. After _five_ years of being together," Rachel continues now.

"Geez, Rachel, way to have a pity party," Quinn says.

Rachel is quiet. Suddenly she says, "And how do you know about 'A Streetcar Named Desire' anyway?"

"You are a snob and a half, Rachel," Quinn says, rolling her eyes. "Santana used to drag me around theaters to watch plays whenever we saw each other and or whenever there was one showing on cable or something. She says it's so she could get up to speed with the stuff you love. It was really annoying."

"I didn't know that," Rachel says now.

"Well, apparently you don't seem to know a lot about Santana."

They fall into silence again, as they drink their cups of coffee. Presently, Quinn says, "It's been tough for her you know. All that she's been through…raising Suzie alone…"

"I know," Rachel softly says. "You must think I'm such a colossal jerk for saying all this."

Quinn shakes her head. "No, you're not. It just makes you human. It's perfectly understandable, believe me. But she's kind of still going through a lot. I mean, still got bills, debts, loans to pay, you know?"

"What do you mean?"

Quinn shrugs. "Well, the hospital bills and everything. I know they had insurance and everything, but that couldn't have been enough, I think. And she has Suzie to think of, too. I mean, people have offered to help, but you know how Santana gets. She's got her pride, too. The only one she accepts help from are the Pierces, and that's only because of Suzie. She's their granddaughter after all, the one thing that's left of Brittany, you know?"

"Yeah…and well, having Suzie in itself was very expensive, too! And that's already with the help of Brittany's parents, you know?" Quinn continues. "I mean, god, it's more expensive to get pregnant than it is to actually get someone killed!"

Rachel nods, listening to Quinn.

"And I think she's gunning for junior partner or something. I mean she's been passed off for promotions for so long in the past, you know?" Quinn continues. "I mean she put her life on hold for so long when they got married and had Suzie and then Brittany got sick and she had to take a year off just to take care of her, you know? And I imagine deciding to go to New York didn't help her cause a lot either."

"Why didn't she tell me all this?" Rachel asks.

Quinn shrugs again. "I guess she has her reasons, Rachel."

"I could've helped more, you know," Rachel says now, softly. "And of course if we were married, that would've helped with the finances some."

Quinn shakes her head. "Weren't you listening to what I just said? Santana Lopez _doesn't_ accept help from _anyone_. And I think she just doesn't want you to think she wants to marry you just for financial reasons, you know? Just for the convenience of it all."

"I didn't know…" Rachel says, voice trailing off.

She seems to have lost her buzz now. Buoyed by strong coffee, the nausea has abated, the room has stopped spinning, and everything, including Quinn and the topic they just started discussing, is coming into focus.

"She's been through a lot – Santana," Quinn says now, as she looks at Rachel with her clear, intense, blue eyes, eyes that seem to be piercing her soul, as if she is trying to tell Rachel something, warning or threatening her, she does not know. Quinn and Santana have grown close post-high school and have become protective of each other and sometimes she envies them this. "But that's why you're good for her, Rachel. I've never seen her this happy since Brittany and when Suzie was born."

They grow quiet again, as Sam's drunken voice assaults their ears.

"Okay, this is the last time we ever let Sam drink, _ever_," Quinn says, craning her head to catch Merlott's attention. "And can someone please take that microphone away from him please? Thank you!"

Merlott and the staff try to move to get the microphone away from Sam but Sam is too quick and tries to avoid them. A shuffle ensues as Quinn turns her eyes on Rachel.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know," Rachel says. She opens her mouth, closes it again, sighs, looks up at Quinn now and says, "It's hard to explain. Just…"

Quinn waits for Rachel to go on, but when she realizes there is nothing forthcoming, she says, "You guys belong together. Santana loves you because she finally found someone she could argue with, someone who wouldn't take her shit. Someone who wouldn't back down. An _equal_, you know? She loves you because she just _does_, okay? As far as I am concerned, you guys are perfect for each other."

"But…Did you ever…" Rachel starts to ask, hesitates, then asks it anyway, before she loses her nerve, "Did you ever just want to be sure about something?"

Quinn looks at her for a second. "Okay, that's just ridiculous," she says. "How can you not be sure about Santana? Read the writing on the wall: she's not cheating on you. She can't. She's too in love with you. I mean, geez, she used to call me every time you guys fight, ranting about your diva ass, worried about you and your relationship, agonizing about you, for crissakes, asking for _advice_ of all things, on you. I mean she kept calling me on the hour every hour today just to make sure you're okay! Her daughter loves you, her family loves you, you're practically married anyway, what more do you want? I mean she even kept that ridiculous high school photo of yours! It's positively nauseating!"

"How do you know about that?"

"She has it with her, _everywhere_," Quinn says. "Ever wondered why no one can touch her wallet? She's very particular about people touching her wallet. I mean, I just think she just wants to keep her rep as a badass intact. And seriously Rachel, who gives their high school picture to the one person they always bicker with in high school? Who _does_ that?"

Rachel smiles and shakes her head. "I don't know. But that's like asking who _gives_ someone an expensive train pass to the one person they hated in high school so we can, you know, totally visit each other or something. I mean, who _does_ that? And I'm just sort of kind of your friend right now?"

Quinn glares at her. "It was _high_ _school_, Rachel. Let it go."

"Or you know, who draws dirty pictures of other girls in the girls' restroom?" Rachel continues, half-grinning. "Who _does_ that?"

Quinn clears her throat. "Uh, technically, that wasn't me. That was Santana. Drawing pictures of you and the other girls in the restrooms when we were in high school."

Rachel looks at her, puzzled.

"She wasn't out then, so I took the fall for those dirty pictures that she drew in the girls' toilets, okay?" Quinn says now. "She likes drawing pictures. Remember prom and election and whatever? When she used to get into trouble for defacing anything that didn't have Brittany's face in it?"

Rachel nods.

"Anyway, I'm telling you all this because…" and here Quinn sighs, leans back, fighting back the drunkenness, muttering about how wasted she feels before continuing, "If Santana fought so hard to make her relationship with Brittany work even through the worst of times, she will definitely fight to keep the one she has now with you. Especially since this relationship has made her so happy. That's the Santana I've always known. And whatever happens, I think that's the one thing Santana will always be."

Rachel feels strange about all these things she is learning about Santana, this different side of her that she is only getting to know about now. She knits her brows and swallows as understanding dawns on her. Santana has always struggled with articulating emotions not related to work, but the more she thinks about it now, the picture, the calling Quinn about her, the watching theater for her and dragging her friends to watch them with her, what Suzie has said in the train, how the Lopezes view her, _this_, right now, being with _Santana's_ friends, instead of hers, just because Santana had asked them to and they had complied not just out of friendship with Santana but out of concern for Rachel and their _relationship_, this makes her realize that maybe, maybe she has been going about this all wrong. Maybe she has not been giving Santana enough credit. She has kept information from her, sure, but she has also done so for understandable reasons. What she realizes, as she thinks about Santana and their relationship now, is that maybe it is not perfect, maybe it is far from it, but maybe she should, as Quinn says now, learn to simply trust Santana now. Trust that they are going to make it. Because as things now come into even clearer focus, Rachel suddenly has this strange feeling that maybe they might make it after all.

Quinn clears her throat to get Rachel's attention, so Rachel apologizes and smiles and Quinn smiles back. "Can I give you a piece of advice?"

"I'm not sure I want to, but, go on right ahead," Rachel says.

Quinn rolls her eyes. "It's okay to be happy. You have a right to be. You deserve to be happy. As Santana deserves to be, too. Don't screw it up for both of you. And, this is going to be corny, but it's got to be said, sometimes, you just have to let go of all that stuff in the past. It has no bearing on the present, and it certainly as hell has no bearing on the future. Just, you know, _be_. Trust in Santana, trust in your relationship, trust that things are going to be okay."

Rachel sighs. She sits back on the chair, thinking about what Quinn has said, for what seems like forever, sighs, simply says, "Okay."

"I miss her," Rachel suddenly says. "I really do. I miss Suzie, too. I adore her. God, I even miss _Kurt!_"

Quinn nods sympathetically, reaching out to pat Rachel's hand. "I know, sweetie. I know."

Suddenly, Sam's voice seems to have quieted down as Jennifer Love Hewitt version of "Don't Throw it All Away…" starts to play.

Quinn and Rachel grow silent as they listen to the first stanza of the song. As Jennifer Love Hewitt finishes the stanza, Rachel says, "Not a bad voice. It's not like mine, but it's not too bad either."

Quinn grins. "Nice to have you back, Rachel."

As the chorus comes around, Rachel and Quinn hear a bit of a screech as if someone has just turned the microphone on, and another voice starts to sing the chorus…

"_You alone are the living thing that keeps me alive_

_And tomorrow if I am here without your love_

_You know I can't survive_

_Only my love can raise you high above it all…"_

It is a very distinctive, raspy voice, described so often as a dead ringer for Amy Winehouse's voice. Rachel tilts her head, knits her brows, thinks she has drunk too much if she is hearing familiar voices, like the voice of the one person she is in love with, and something like hope starts to blossom in her heart but she dare not hope. But Quinn's face has changed as well. She is watching something in front of her, and Rachel turns around and there, behind them, near the bar, standing near Merlott and Sam who are grinning like two idiotic Chesire cats, is Santana Lopez, microphone in hand, looking all tired, business clothes rumpled, but face radiant, the grin on her face matching the slow grin spreading on Rachel's face. Santana is beautiful and her dark hair flows in wavy cascades on her shoulders and back, and her eyes are dark and sharp and seem only to see Rachel now, from across the room, gazing at her as if gazing deep into her soul and her lips are full and red and all Rachel can think of is kissing them right now. She is beautiful and she is here and she is Rachel's.

"_Don't throw it all away our love, our love_

_Don't throw it all away our love_

_Don't throw it all away our love, our love_

_Don't throw it all away our love_

_Don't throw it all away our love, our love_

_Don't throw it all away our love_

_Don't throw it all away our love, our love_

_Don't throw it all away our love…"_

Santana is beautiful and she is here and she is hers she thinks again, as she stands up and walks, then runs towards her.

She does not let Santana finish the song.

Santana lets her.

She rushes into Santana's arms and Santana engulfs her in a tight hug, lifting her off the ground. Rachel clings to her neck, lets Santana lift her and hold her in a tight embrace as her lips connect with Santana in a long, slow, deep kiss as the cheers and wolf whistles and the sound of the song and the clapping and everything else fade away and all she can think of is Santana, right here, right now, holding her, kissing her, kissing her like the world is ending, like the world has just begun, like Rachel is the only thing that mattered.

There are probably a hundred and one things they need to talk about, but let that be for tomorrow or the day after tomorrow. Tonight she will enjoy the feel of Santana in her arms, loving her again into being.

Santana is back.

Rachel thinks it is going to be a great Christmas after all.

* * *

**_Author's end notes:_**

**_And that is it for this chapter. Again, many thanks for reading this chapter and for all your kind reviews for this chapter._**

**_Also, I would like to say again, many thanks to everyone for your kind reviews for the previous chapter, or as I like to call it "The Origin of Love" chapter. :)_**

**_To parker88 – Good to have you back! :) RE: Rachel's very own Sue Sylvester – Yes, I think every school always has one of those. :) Thanks for reading and for your review._**

**_To MeLovePezberry – Good to have you back as well! :) Re: Team Suzie and Kate – glad you are on team Kuzie (Kutee suggested the ship haha!). Re: Family game, Santana referring to Rachel as Suzie's mother – nothing escapes you doesn't it? hahah! Wanted to show that stepfamilies are very cool. :) As for going In the Loop herself – hahahah! Your comment made my day! Thanks! Re: Glee Club kids, Love Actually – I'm glad you liked them. Love Actually is awesome. :) Re: Never stopping writing the funny – I shall try, as long as you also stick around with this story! ;) hahah! :) Thanks for reading and reviewing! Hope you liked this chapter, as well._**

**_To kutee – Re: Happy about quick updates – Glad this made you happy! :) Re: Suzie and Kate are cute, Kuzie or Sate – glad you find them cute. :) I'd go with Kuzie or Kazie, what do you think? :) Re: Suzie like Brittany – Yes, that's the Brittany that I've always liked as well, the one with heart, Season 2 Brittany. :) And yes, Suzie is like Brittany in that aspect. Re: Rachel's high school photo with Santana – yes, Santana is cute like that, isn't she? :) Hope this chapter answers your questions and that you enjoyed reading it. :) Thanks for reading and reviewing!_**

**_To Paula de Roma - Re: Loving this story - I'm glad. :) Re: Loving the cute and funny interaction between the Lopez girls and Rachel – I'm glad you are enjoying this story and this set of characters. Re: A reason why Santana is acting the way she does and working so much – Loved your insight into Santana. :) Hope this chapter answers a few of your questions. Thanks for reading and reviewing._**

**_To amazinglife18 –Re: Getting lost and finding your way back – Glad you found your way back. Re: Smart and sweet Suzie – glad you like Suzie! I think she's awesome. :) Re: Suzie's relationship with Rachel – yes, because stepfamilies can be awesome like that. Re: Suzie quoting "The Origin Of Love" is like magic – "The Origin of Love" and that story by Plato is one of my favorites, too. Just had to include it.:) Re: the photo of Rachel on her and Santana wallets and the fact that San keep it for all of those years is one of the most romantic things i ever read:) – Aaaww, I'm glad you liked it. Re: Santana's family on Christmas is such a typical latina familia – They are, aren't they? Hope this chapter has answered your questions. Just have to say, I really liked your review and hope you stick around to read what comes next. Thanks for reading and reviewing and hope you enjoyed this chapter._**

**_To CarolineSC – Re: I am sticking around, don't you worry about that lol!- Good to know! :) Thanks for reading and reviewing and hope you enjoyed this chapter, as well! :)_**

**_To SoFlaComet – Re: Aww... Out of the mouths of babes – That's what my beta said! :) Re: Loving Suzie – I am glad you love Suzie! Re: Dynamic between Rachel and Suzie – Yes, they are great together, I think. Re: Rachel not staying at the Lopez house - yes, if she did stay there, I think that would have made some awkward moments. Re: Nicely done real and raw thoughts outside Quinn's house - Thanks. As always thanks for reading and reviewing and you're welcome._**

**_To nickd93 - Re: Another great update! - Thanks! Re: Excited about the quick update - Glad it got you excited! Re: Heartbreaking for Rachel. :-( I teared up a bit - Aaaaw, I'm sorry to hear that. Hope this chapter helps with the feelings! Thanks for reading and reviewing!_**

**_To dayabieberxo - Re: Once again I loved this chapter! This story is awesome. - Thanks! Re: Quinn - hope this chapter answered your questions! Re: Hope she's not mad at Santana like I am lol - Hope you're not mad at Santana anymore! Re: Suzie and Kate were cute - yes, they were,weren't they! Re: Santana was cute asking Suzie to watch Rachel, Rachel is just epically amazing, and Suzie's speech about the song was just whoa! - Aaaaw, glad you liked Chapter 17! And yes, must say Rachel IS epically amazing. :) And Suzie, of course, is awesome!_**

**_To DragonsWillFly - Thanks for going over this chapter for me, despite the exhaustion! :) Really, really appreciate it! :)_**

**_Songs featured in this chapter:_**

**_"Officially Missing You" by Tamia_**

**_"Nothing Compares To U" by Sinead O'Connor (best song ever!)_**

**_"In My Life" by Patti Austin (we're moving into jazz music now. :))_**

**_"Don't Throw It All Away" by Jennifer Love Hewitt (it's a nice underrated song. Santana singing this song on the show would have been awesome! :))_**

**_And if you feel like it, feel free to listen to Lea Michelle's version of Broadway show tunes while reading this chapter (I think her versions of those Les Miz songs are really good, but I'm a big Les Miz fan so I loved it!). And since my beta and I are theater geeks, feel free to check out the following:_**

**_"On My Own", "I Dreamed A Dream", "Master of the House" from "Les Miserables"_**

**_"Last Night of the World" and "The Heat is on in Saigon" from "Miss Saigon"_**

**_"Out Here On My Own" from "Fame"_**

**_"I'll Cover You" from "Rent"_**

**_"Memories" from "Cats"_**

**_"I Don't Know How to Love Him" from "Jesus Christ Superstar"_**

**_"Waiting for Life to Begin" from "Once On this Island"_**

**_"My Favorite Things" from "The Sound of Music"_**


	19. The Promise

_**Author's note: Team Pezberry! Christmas came early this year! Chapter 19 is up! Happy reading! **_**:)**

* * *

Rachel drifts in and out of sleep, dreaming of cabins in the woods, checkered table cloths, varnished pinewood, women in various states of undress singing "_We made our love on Graceland_" to the tune of Spandau Ballet's "Through the Barricades", James Earl Jones literally swallowing the sun as Sean Connery as James Bond cheered him on, Elmer Fudd screaming "Stewaaa! Stewaaa!", a variety of Broadway show tunes playing on the background, and the vague faces of Quinn, Sam and Merlott and Santana. Always Santana. The smell of Santana, the weight and feel of Santana, the tickle of her hair against her shoulder, her neck, her breath on Rachel's cheek, her arms around her, engulfing her. She drifts in and out of sleep and feels someone holding her tightly as the wind outside blows, and the temperature drops and the first snowflakes drift down from the basement window. She shivers and pushes her body nearer to the warm body holding her and a muffled grunt of approval emanates from behind her as she does so. She dreams Santana has made it to their anniversary, dreams she sang a song to her, dreams she has swept Rachel up in her arms, lifting her up and kissing her, like in those romantic comedies that they sometimes watch together on movie tonight, the ones that induce eye rolls from Santana as corny scenes and cheesy lines play out, but last night, last night, Rachel is sure, something that only happens in movies just happened and she is glad for it. She wakes up in the middle of the night, feels an arm wrapped tightly around her, and before panic starts to envelop her, she recognizes, in the half-darkness of shadows and light, the shape and feel of the arm, spies the long, tapering fingers with the fingernails kept obsessively short and immaculately clean and manicured curled around her own arm, smells the familiar smell of gardens, feels the tickle of hair against her cheek, and recognizes that it is Santana's. _Her_ Santana. She realizes, with much relief, that it was not a dream, that Santana is really here, here with her, right arm wrapped around her, left arm under Rachel's head, serving as Rachel's pillow, one leg thrown over Rachel's thigh.

Santana feels her move and she stirs herself, and murmurs, thickly, sleepily, "Hey, go to sleep," before kissing her on the cheek, then on her neck and shoulder and tightening her hug and drifts back to sleep herself.

Rachel can feel Santana's warmth against her back, against her whole body as she lies against her, her back to Santana's stomach.

As she slowly drifts back to sleep, she dreams of Christmas trees and Santa Clauses and glittering snow and Santana. Always Santana. Her Santana. Here with her, at last.

* * *

When Rachel wakes up, she wakes up alone. The right side of the bed, Santana's side, is empty and she almost thinks again that whatever happened last night, was a dream, especially towards the end, when she sees Santana by the counter, standing by Sam and Merlott. She thinks it might have all been a dream, but for the indentation left on the bed, and Santana's distinctive smell on the sheets and Santana's stuff, a purse, a small suitcase, her laptop bag, shoes, clothes, strewn haphazardly by one of the chairs.

Her second thought is predictably wondering where she is, and as a slow pounding begins to start from somewhere at the back of her brain and starts to methodically make its way to the front, right where her eyes are, she remembers everything, the drinking, the singing, the talk with Quinn. And realizes she is in Quinn's basement, on her pull-out couch bed. She does not know how she got home, and does not even remember half of what happened last night, except for the parts when they started drinking coffee, but even then, everything just seems like a blur. She looks down at herself and finds she is wearing a long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants, her clothes from last night draped on the same chair where Santana's clothes are. She looks out on the basement window to her left, just a little above the bed and finds that a bit of snow, a feathery mound of it, has fallen, while she was sleeping. The heater is turned on, but she somehow still shivers from the cold, and buries herself back in the comforter, pulls it over her head.

She drifts off into sleep again.

* * *

She wakes up to the door upstairs being opened, closed, the click of the knob as it is locked audible, and the sound of footsteps descending the stairs. She throws back the covers to find Santana, in a gray Kentucky sweatshirt, sweatpants, socks and slippers, coming down the stairs, closing the distance between the stairs and the bed quickly, a grin on her face when she sees Rachel is up.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Santana murmurs now when she reaches the bed, sitting down near Rachel and kissing Rachel on the lips.

"Ugh, no, morning breath, alcohol, embarrassing, so not sexy, headache," Rachel mumbles, covering her mouth with her hand, shaking her head vigorously, yawning. "Brushing teeth, going to the bathroom."

"Yes, I heard you were quite the drunken master last night," Santana says as Rachel gets up to head to the bathroom just a few feet away from the bed.

"Pffft," Rachel mumbles, waving her hand away whilst fighting a vague headache as she heads to the bathroom.

A few minutes later, she comes back out, face washed, teeth brushed, a bit more awake and alert than when Santana has first set eyes on her.

When she sees Santana, she stops, grins and says, "Good morning."

"Good morning," Santana says as Rachel crawls to the bed, leans over and kisses Santana. Santana kisses her back.

"Had fun last night?" Santana asks, a smirk on her face.

Rachel smiles sheepishly and nods.

"Good," Santana says, smiling. "Breakfast is ready. We've got pancakes, black coffee and Sam. Apparently he lives here now."

Rachel laughs nervously and nods.

As Santana makes a move to stand up, Rachel moves to touch her arm, as if to stop her from standing up. She is sitting on the bed, not making any move to stand up herself.

Rachel suddenly finds her heart begin to pound, as Santana knits her brows and asks, "What?"

Rachel swallows, hesitates, tries to speak, but cannot, but it is now or never, so she blurts it out before she loses her nerve, "We need to talk."

Santana's face turns serious and curious as she sits back down. She peers into Rachel's face. "Rachel…" she says uncertainly.

Rachel almost regrets saying it, wonders why she suddenly finds the urge to have a talk with Santana today, of all days, when she has not seen Santana in days, but something inside her, for some strange reason seems to compel her to talk to her now.

So Rachel says, "No…let me just…" But she stops, can hear her heart continue to steadily pound so hard against her chest, can feel the butterflies in her stomach, but she powers through it, "I've tried to bring this up before but I couldn't. I guess there was never enough time or it just wasn't the right time or whatever. I guess I kind of just kept losing my nerve, too, but if I don't bring this up now I never will and I feel I have to before it's too late."

"Okay," Santana says, still looking at her, curiosity in her expression mingling with something Rachel cannot readily identify.

Rachel is silent. Santana is looking at her so intently, with those deep, dark eyes, making her blush and look down on the bed sheet, instead of her eyes. She does not know how to start. Never knows how to start. It seemed easier before, when they were just friends, or more accurately, frenemies, and she could tell her what she thought without thought of hurting her or offending her or anything. But the added complication of and the glaring _awareness_ that she is in love with Santana Lopez, makes it hard for her to say anything without thinking of the consequences. She thinks about this now as she stares at the bed sheet and a seemingly frightening silence has descended in the basement, punctuated by the occasional sound of a rumbling car outside, the gas heater, muffled footsteps and voices upstairs, or down the street. She can almost feel Santana's eyes boring into her soul from where she feels she is staring at her.

"Is everything okay?" Santana says softly now, as she lays her hand on Rachel's paler one. "What is it?"

Santana's thumb rubs gently back and forth on the back of Rachel's hand and she feels a vague reassuring feeling from the motion. She notices again, for the millionth time, how fascinating it is, to see her pale skin against Santana's tan one.

Rachel looks up and she draws a deep breath. "San, it's…it's about how much I love you. And how I don't love you in that stupid high-school puppy-dog kind of way, or in that 'I'm-going-to-die-without-you' kind of way. I just love you, very simply, very truly. It's about how happy you make me feel. How happy you've made me. How at peace I am with you. It's about how with you, I don't have to be anything. I don't need to be the perfect anything, I can just be me and it's okay because you love me anyway. You accept me for who I am. Who I was. Who I could still be. You make me want to be the best that I can be. You make me want to be… real. You just make me…want to _not_ pretend anymore. And it's about the fact that nobody has ever made me so loved like you have. When you hold me, I feel I'm the only one that counts. When you look at me, when I'm with you, I feel like I'm home. And there's just nothing in the world I want to do than to keep coming home to you for the rest of my life."

There's a soft, half-smile on Santana's face as she listens to her.

"And I know you love me, too and everything…"Rachel says, stops, sighs and decides she has to bring this out before she loses courage, as her heart pounding beneath her chest reaches a painful crescendo, "I know I'm not perfect, and you tell me often enough how much I drive you nuts, and I know that, but… sometimes, I can't help but feel like…you're just…biding your time, like if you met someone else you'd leave me like a shot. Like maybe I'm not enough. And please don't get mad…I know this is silly and I'm being insecure, but we've been together for five years and I just need to know if…if…" and here Rachel swallows, pushes through, "If this is going somewhere…if this is all it's ever going to be…between us…just…_this_…"

Santana is silent. So deathly, frighteningly silent. Rachel feels a bit exhausted by this speech, and feels a headache coming on. She prepares herself for the unexpected. For the inevitable. If she loses Santana now, then at least she was honest. And she can move on. But the mere thought of losing Santana fills her with a painful stab of pain, deep within her soul.

The minutes stretch on and it feels like hours have passed, although in truth it probably has only been a few minutes. But the silence stretches and it seems like forever, and the anticipation, the suspense is killing Rachel.

But Santana suddenly sighs and leans over and cups Rachel's face in one hand.

"Baby," Santana says, softly, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry about…everything. I'm sorry I've been so busy. I'm sorry I've made you feel this way. I'm sorry I've hurt you like this…I took you for granted, I know. And I haven't been a good partner to you…I just…"

There's another silence as Santana stops, hesitates, does not know what else to say.

Santana reaches into the pocket of her oversized gray Kentucky sweatshirt and pulls out a folded piece of paper and hands it to Rachel.

Rachel accepts it, puzzled. She realizes it is not just one piece of paper, it is about three or four pages folded into three, lengthwise. As she unfolds it, she asks, "What's this?"

"It's just…" Santana says, a little embarrassed, "Something I should have shown you before but…I was afraid you might freak out…"

Rachel finishes unfolding the piece of paper and finds, from the heading, that it is someone's last will and testament. As she goes over it, she realizes it is not just anyone's last will and testament, it is Santana's last will and testament.

"I don't understand…" Rachel says, confused and growing inexplicably afraid.

It feels strange and somehow morbid that Santana would give her a copy of her will. But she goes over it for lack of something better to do, or something to say, and skims through the legalese, trying to understand what Santana is trying to say.

But then she spots her name once, and finds it a few more times and as understanding dawns on her, she feels unobtrusively overcome, overwhelmed, as tears threaten to well up in her eyes. She has promised not to cry - she has been crying a lot these past few days and it is very embarrassing. She looks up at Santana but cannot see her clearly through the veil of tears threatening to spill from her eyes. She tries to speak but she finds she cannot.

Santana has named her executor of her estate should she die, has named her and Suzie principal heir to whatever she will leave behind, has named her Suzie's legal guardian. She has glanced at the date and finds that the will is at least three years old or so.

As she tries to speak, Santana looks down on the point on the couch in front of her and speaks in a soft, almost shy voice, "I'm sorry, I've been busy. I know I haven't been there for you sometimes and I know it's sometimes hard for me to say these things…and I know _that_…" and she gestures to the document in Rachel's hand, "Is not enough…but it's just to show you…you're a part of me… my future…part of my family…and…I know I should have consulted you first about this…but…."

"Honey, I don't need this," Rachel says, trying hard not to cry, as she pushes the documents back to Santana. "I don't need this…"

"I figured it out," Santana suddenly says. "I think maybe you were thinking because I was like that in high school, sleeping around, cheating on people, you think maybe I'll do it to you, too."

Rachel stays quiet as Santana sees the confirmation in her eyes. Santana sighs. "Rach, I may be a bitch, but I'm not a complete asshole. I know I used to say 'Never say no' and just do it with everyone but…contrary to popular belief I was not actually sleeping with everyone. There was only Puck really, and Finn, and Sam and Brittany. Mostly Brittany. And I didn't even sleep with Sam."

"You didn't?"

"No. He was kind of a dork. And he was still into Quinn at the time, so."

"Oh," Rachel says. She stares at Santana with newfound understanding.

Santana rolls her eyes. "STD, Rach. I wasn't going to ruin my future with that. The plan was get out of Lima, make something of myself," Santana says. "But it was also high school. I was popular. Had to keep my reputation. But that all went to hell when I came out, so."

"People change, Rachel," Santana says, sighing. "And who I was then could not have been the kind of person you needed then in your life. Any more than who you were then was what I would have needed back then. We were different people then, when we were in high school. But we change. You and I are living proof of that. We've got a lifetime's worth of experiences to shape us, change us, make us who we are right now, who we were meant to be."

Rachel is quiet. "What about those things Quinn said last night?"

Santana narrows her eyes. "What did she say?"

And Rachel mentions what Quinn has said: about the financial problems and being passed off for promotions. Santana listens, nods, bites her lower lip, intent on listening to Rachel. Rachel does not remember everything she and Quinn talked about last night, except for the ones about Santana loving her, and the problems Santana has been having lately, but this she wants to bring up now, too. After a silence, in which Rachel thinks Santana might get mad about this, Santana gives her a small smile, explains to her that the financial problems are under control, that it took some time, but she is paying them off little by little. As for being passed for promotions, Santana tells her in all honesty that being passed off for a promotion because she had to take a year off to take care of Brittany did not matter then, still does not matter now and she honestly does not care about it. She admits being transferred to New York is a whole new different ballgame, and she does not know whether she will ever get to be junior partner but she does not care either, because it means she gets to be with Rachel and Suzie, and that is all that matters. It is an honest, open conversation, and this segues into other issues they have, Santana's work, Rachel's work, whether they both are working too much and are taking each other for granted, Suzie, the future. Rachel feels, as they talk things through, like a thorn has been pulled out of her chest, like she can breathe more easily. They both promise that no matter what happens they will always talk to each other about things.

Rachel makes a move to speak some more but Santana puts her hand up, is asking her to listen. "Rachel, you're it for me. Every day I wake up very grateful to have you in my life. When you sing, it's like it's the most beautiful thing I've ever heard. When you smile, I feel like the world is _right_, and all I want to do is figure out what I did so I could make you smile again. Every day I fall in love with you again."

"And I know you wonder sometimes what would have happened had Brittany not…passed away," Santana says, "But that doesn't change anything between us now. I loved her, I always have, maybe I always will. We have had a wonderful life and she gave me Suzie and for that I am forever grateful for. But that doesn't change the fact that I love you, too, that I love you so much and that I can't conceive of a world without you."

"And contrary to what you believe, to what you said last night," Santana continues, with a small smile now, reminding both of them what Rachel has said drunkenly, "I just didn't hook up with you just 'cause you happened to be there. I don't know what the future has in store for us, I just know that in all the possible futures I imagine for me and Suzie, I see you there as well. I see you in all my futures, Rachel. And it's not how we start that matters, it's how we continue, how we see things through, all the way to the end, how our story ends, that really matters. You are not, you never were, you never will be, second choice for me. And if things happened differently, I think I would always, always find my way back to you."

"Oh, San," Rachel says, a wave of certainty, understanding, _love _suddenly crashing through her as she moves forward to engulf Santana in a fierce hug before she finds Santana's lips and kisses her with fervent, reverent kisses.

"Baby, we're going to make it, okay?" Santana murmurs now, in between kisses. "I love you."

"I love you more," Rachel says, bringing up her hands to cup Santana's face and pulling her in for a deeper kiss.

"No, I love _you_ more."

"I loved you _first_," Rachel says now.

"Dammit, you always want to win an argument, don't you?" Santana says now, grinning.

Rachel grins into their kiss as she pulls Santana onto the bed and on top of her. Rachel reaches up to remove Santana's sweatshirt. Santana stops and puts her arms up, helps Rachel remove her shirt. Rachel's hands go over Santana's stomach beneath the tee as she continues to kiss her.

"Honey, shut up. I think we're supposed to have make-up sex now, " Rachel murmurs.

Santana grins as they both get into the covers.

"Damn right it's time for make-up sex!" Santana says into her kiss. "Especially since you _slept_ on me last night."

Rachel laughs and mumbles an apology as Santana settles herself on top of Rachel, Rachel's arms snaking around Santana's slender waist, pulling her closer, as Santana showers her with kisses, thought of breakfast and present company upstairs forgotten.

* * *

Later, Santana and Rachel finally make their appearance into Quinn's kitchen, all giggly and giddy, holding each other's hand, thus eliciting an eye roll from Quinn.

The kitchen is modest, warm, cozy, covered in faux pinewood, refrigerator, microwave and other kitchen appliances arranged neatly and within reach. A table is set in the middle of the kitchen, a counter by the sink, a backdoor leading out to the backyard, where windows reveal snow blanketing everything in pure white and a small radio is playing some soft music by the kitchen counter.

"Dude, what kind of wake-up call takes _hours_?" Sam asks incredulously, in between mouthfuls of pancake and gulps of black coffee from where he is sitting by the table.

As Santana and Rachel sit down beside each other on the breakfast table, Santana's right hand automatically snaking to Rachel's waist, grabbing Rachel's left hand to twine it with hers. Quinn, who is sitting across the table, leans over and brushes Santana's hair away from her neck, revealing a freshly made hickey. Santana makes to swat her hand away as Rachel turns red and Quinn smugly says, "The kind that includes something that looks suspiciously like a hickey on Santana's neck."

"Rachel, you little minx you," Sam says, grinning. "Never thought you had it in you."

Quinn smirks.

"Shut _up, _both of you," Santana says, and turning to Quinn she says, "And get me some coffee, will you?"

"Get some yourself," Quinn retorts, pushing a couple of plates with pancakes towards Santana and Rachel, along with a bottle of maple syrup. "I'm not the help."

"And yet that dress, that apron and that 'do beg to differ," Santana quips with a smirk, as she reluctantly untangles herself from Rachel, gets up to grab a couple of cups from the cupboard, reaches for the coffee pot that Sam hands her and pours herself and Rachel a cup of coffee each. She hands Rachel her cup of coffee with a tender smile, then turns to Quinn. "Unless, you know, you and Jeffrey have some kind of role playing kink that I don't _ever_ want to hear about."

"Yeah, 'cause last night when Rachel was talking about you guys having amazing sex all the time was something we wanted to hear about?" Sam interjects, with a smirk. "And what was that thing about toys? And strap-ons?"

"Aren't they the same thing?" Quinn asks, wondering.

"It kind of makes me think of gun holsters and stuff," Sam continues as he stabs his pancakes and puts the in his mouth.

Rachel blushes and Santana follows suit. Santana turns to Rachel now, clears her throat and says, "Seriously babe, you shouldn't be drinking anymore. And you definitely shouldn't be drinking when I'm not around."

"That's fine. I didn't actually get any more details beyond 'Santana is amazing in bed'," Sam says. "And then Quinn kind of grabbed Rachel and put her hand on her mouth, so that put a stop to my fun. Seriously Quinn, way to kill my buzz."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "I could have done without the too much information myself. Exactly why I had to get Rachel out of the house. Still managing to gross me out long after we're all out of high school with her talk of sex. Gross," Quinn says, crunching up her nose. "I really didn't have to know how often you do it."

"How often _do_ you do it?" Sam asks, looking at Rachel, curiously.

Rachel continues to blush as Santana glares at him. Rachel reminds herself never to get as drunk as she did last night.

"Where's Jeffrey and Aidan?" Santana asks now, referring to Quinn's husband and son, pointedly trying to change the subject

"Playing in the snow, by the park," Quinn says. "There's no way I'm going out just to have a bunch of kids throw snowballs at me. They're probably gonna go get some Kiddie meal at McDonald's later."

Santana nods as she drinks her cup of coffee and brings Rachel closer to her. Rachel grins at her as she tries to concentrate on her pancake. But Santana has a piece of pancake on her fork and is offering Rachel a bite. Rachel accepts it readily. Santana nuzzles her shoulder, kisses her cheek, then kisses her near her lips.

"Gross, Santana," Quinn says, annoyed. "It's not enough I have to sit through you guys making out last night, ugh. I have to see it in my own house, too. Step away from Rachel right _now_."

Sam chuckles and Santana just grins whilst Rachel continues to burn bright red.

"Dude," Sam turns to address Rachel, who grimaces at his term of endearment. "Santana must really love you. You were so wasted last night and saying all that stuff about," and he changes his voice to a high one, trying to imitate Rachel, "'Being second choice' or whatever but Santana was like, whoa…yeah…calm and collected and crap and how come you were never like that with me, Santana?" he continues, as he eats his pancakes and continues to gulp his coffee.

"I don't know, Sam, that's probably because you don't have a vagina. I don't know, I'm just saying," Santana says, shrugging nonchalantly as she pops a slice of pancake into her mouth.

Sam almost chokes on his coffee.

Quinn laughs. "Hey, Santana, so glad you made it last night. Rachel was being all weird and dorky again. She was singing all the musicals that were ever made since the beginning of time. It was hell."

Santana grins.

"Yeah. And I seriously don't know if I ever want to sit through a drunken Rachel Berry Broadway commentary ever again," Sam says. "If you think high school Rachel Berry was bad, just wait til you hear her natter about Broadway when she's drunk! She spent hours, literally _hours_, just talking about _Broadway_. She gave us a rather lengthy comparative analysis of Broadway and West End, in between breaks from _singing_ Broadway tunes. I now know the difference between Broadway and West End!"

"Yeah. Although just imagine how it would have been if she was actually _still_ high school Rachel Berry and _not_ going out with Santana. She'd still be a complete dork if it weren't for Santana," Quinn says, grinning to Santana's half-amused, half-annoyed smile, "Anyway, she spent the whole night gushing over how freaking awesome Patti LuPone was! And how awesome Christine Chenoweth and Idina Menzel are! And of course, ugh, Barbara _Streisand_. And how Les Miz is the greatest musical _ever._"

"Totally. She also talked about how badly she wanted to be in that Les Miz movie musical, but Amanda Seyfried beat her to it," Sam interjects. "And how that _other_ Les Miz movie version sucked. And how apparently Claire Danes sucks. And Amanda Seyfried, too!"

"Shut up, Sam," Rachel says half-heartedly, but having lost whatever dignity she has last night, she seems to have lost whatever authority she has on Sam.

"We also know which Miss Saigon production is the best. Broadway of course, and the best Kim apparently is some lady named Lea Salonga. I don't know who that is," Quinn reports, donning a slightly bored tone in her voice, but the glint in her eyes makes Santana grin.

"Sacrilege! She sang 'Reflection' in Mulan and 'A Whole New World' in 'Aladdin'! She sang those songs way before Christina Aguilera and Peabo Bryson made them popular! She played Eponine in the Broadway version of 'Les Miserables'," Rachel says, horrified they would not know this tidbit of trivia.

"Whatever. Oh, there was also an overlong discussion on who was better, Andrew Lloyd Webber or Claude-Michel Schönberg, and Alain Boublil," Quinn recalls.

"Dude, the correct answer is Rodgers and Hammerstein…!" Sam says, then he throws his arms back and starts to sing in a falsetto voice, Julie Andrews style, "'_The….Hills are aaaaaalive! With the sooooound of muuuuuusic!_'...She totally auditioned for Liesel but they wanted her to do Maria or that lady villain whatserface…she turned it down because it made her feel so _old. _And apparently, much like Julia Roberts pre-'My Bestfriend's Wedding' she doesn't do villain roles."

"Shut up, Sam!" Rachel groans now, as Santana snickers. Rachel glares at her and Santana stops snickering.

"And dude, asking who is better, Andrew Lloyd Webber or Schönberg and Boublil, that's like asking who is better, Meryl Streep or Carmen Elektra! Or Robert De Niro or Jean Claude Van Damme! Or Britney Spears or Christina Aguilera!" Sam says now.

"Okay, Sam, we get it!" Quinn says.

"Or Backstreet Boys or NSync! Or Luciano Pavarotti or Justin Bieber! Madonna or Cyndi Lauper!" Sam continues, warming up to his analogy, his eyes shining with excitement. "Or Bruce Lee or Bruce Willis! Batman or Superman! Marvel or DC!"

"Dude, Batman! And definitely DC!" Santana says, grinning.

Quinn and Rachel look at both of them like they have both grown extra heads. Santana smiles sheepishly, apologetically.

"Sam…shut up. You're a dork. And a geek!" Quinn says. She now turns to Santana, "And don't encourage him. It doesn't help."

"Whatever. Or Michael Bay or James Cameron! Or better yet, Michael Bay or Akira Kurosawa!" Sam continues, ignoring what Quinn is saying, even as he accepts the coffee refill Quinn offers.

"Akira Kurosawa obviously," Santana says automatically. When Rachel looks at her, confused, Santana says, apologetically, "Sorry. Sam made me watch The Seven Samurai, just to prove George Lucas stole his idea for Darth Vader. That was Sam's idea of a date."

"Which is still better than sitting through Puck's long, boring lecture on Super Mario Brothers being the best game ever," Sam points out, smiling.

"God, I know, right?" Quinn says. "Is he fifty? No one's played that game since the first Gulf War!"

"Or earlier!" Santana says, chuckling. "I used to fall asleep unfulfilled in the middle of his Super Mario Brothers tirades!"

"Oh, god, me too!" Quinn says, laughing.

Then Santana realizes Rachel is staring at her and she mumbles, voice trailing off, "Not that…well…you know…falling asleep unfulfilled is bad…is there more coffee?"

Sam and Quinn laugh at Santana's discomfort.

"Anyway, Rachel also treated us to a long, extremely boring, full, detailed description of the 'Lord of the Rings' musical production," Quinn continues, smiling at Santana squirming under Rachel's pointed gaze. "Did you know those Ents were on stilts?"

"Damn those Ents! They kept stepping on her! I don't even know how that is possible, seeing as the Ents don't share screen time with Galadriel…" Sam jokes.

"She also told us she was approached to play MJ in that Spiderman the Musical production, but she refused. Somehow being suspended fifty feet up in the air just didn't seem appealing to her," Quinn says.

"I'd have paid to see that!" Sam says, smiling. "I think you'd have been perfect for that," he says.

"Aaaw, thanks, Sam," Rachel says.

"Yeah, Rachel Berry plunging down the stage, screaming her lungs out? Awesome!" Sam says. "Ow!" he says as he feels someone kick him from under the table even as Rachel feels Santana's leg move.

"Oh, did you know she wanted to be in that Priscilla Queen of the Desert musical, but that she couldn't do the accent, or do drag?" Sam asks, rubbing his leg.

"I know. She made me watch all that," Santana says.

"Santana, you are so whipped!" Quinn says.

Santana scrunches up her nose, unable to say anything. Rachel spies that Santana has finished her coffee, so she offers to pour her some more, but Sam announces that there is no more coffee so Rachel gets up to make some more coffee. Pot in hand, she goes to the coffeemaker, pours in some water, scoops out some coffee from the container she pulls out of the cupboard and starts to make coffee.

Above the din of her friends and girlfriend talking to each other and the music from the radio playing, she sees Sam leaning over to say something to Santana and she catches the tail end of it as she goes back to the table.

"…ask Rachel already?" Sam asks Santana.

"Ask me what?" Rachel asks as she comes up toward them and takes her place near Santana, who automatically puts her arm around her waist again.

Rachel feels Santana's leg move again, connecting with Sam's shin as Sam's face contorts with pain and he shouts, "Ow! Nothing."

Rachel looks at Santana, then at Sam with a puzzled look on her face. Neither offers further explanation and Quinn sits oblivious beside Sam, face expressionless as she sips her coffee.

"So, now that you have overextended your welcome," Quinn says, by way of introduction, "What are your plans for the day and when can you leave my house? I've spent way too much time with you losers as it is."

Sam chuckles and shrugs. "Got nothing planned. I'm on holiday. I'll probably be bumming around. Probably here."

"Don't you have a house to go home to?" Quinn asks him pointedly.

"They don't mind," Sam says, grinning.

Quinn rolls her eyes. "And you two? When are you leaving my basement so I can disinfect it?"

Santana rolls her eyes at Quinn and says, "Jerk! Once we're done with breakfast, obviously. Which is any minute now…"

"Yeah, I have to work on the musical arrangements for my Glee kids and lesson plans and check papers and stuff," Rachel says, "I still have to email my kids the arrangements and stuff."

When Santana pulls back from Rachel and gives her a funny look, Rachel quickly says, "After I've spent some needed quality time with my family…and stuff…"

"Damn right," Santana chuckles. "Plus you have a lot of explaining to do to Suzie and _Kurt_."

"Kurt! Never gets old!" Sam says, snickering.

"As if you don't need a lot of explaining to do as well?" Rachel asks.

"Dammit, you're right," Santana says.

Rachel chuckles.

Quinn's mobile phone rings just then, her ring tone Dionne Warwick's "I Say A Little Prayer for You" and she answers it on the first ring with a curious, "Hello?"

"Oh, hey, Dr. Lopez, _Buenas Dias_," Quinn says into the phone.

Rachel leans in to ask Santana, "Quinn speaks Spanish?"

"Only _Buenas Dias_ and the basic cusswords," Santana answers with a smirk.

Quinn puts her hand on the phone and softly says, "Screw you, Santana. And your dad wants to talk to you. Wants to know why your mobile phone is turned off. And they're apparently coming over to pick you up."

As Santana accepts the mobile phone being handed to her, Sam chuckles and says, "Ooooh, you're gonna get it now!"

"Shut up," Santana says as she puts the phone on her ear, then her expression changes as she says, "Not you, Dad. Sam. Sam was being a jerk…Rachel?...Yeah…She's here…Yes, she's coming home…Yes, I told her I was an ass…is that Suzie giggling like a little schoolgirl?...Ugh, Dad, I knew it was a bad idea to let Suzie spend Christmas with you guys! You guys are a bad influence on her!...I'm not changing the subject…Yes, we made up…" she pauses as she listens to her dad talk on the phone, and answers accordingly, to the snickers of Sam, whom she flips off appropriately, whilst Rachel and Quinn grin. Sam mimes the word "whipped" and Santana flips him off again as he dissolves in laughter.

"Yes, yes, I'm totally making it up to her," Santana is saying now, "No, Dad, I'm not using a tone with you…Yes, I know I owe Suzie big time, too…yes, Dad…you what…? You're _outside_…? Right _now_…?"

Everyone turns to the back door as a car pulls up, a door slams, and footsteps scrunch in the snow.

"Oh, _shit_," Santana mutters as she ends the call and hands the phone back to Quinn.

The knock on the backdoor is so loud and vigorous it actually shakes the door from its frame and makes the curtain quiver.

Quinn gets up to get the door and she barely opens it when Suzie barrels through and makes a beeline for her parents, even as both Santana and Rachel stand up, lean over and welcome her with open arms.

"Mom! Mee!" Suzie says excitedly now as Santana engulfs her in a big bear hug and lifts her off the ground. "I've missed you both."

"Hey, kiddo," Santana says, her voice muffled as she nuzzles Suzie's cheek. "Sorry I couldn't come home last night. You _told_ me to come get your mom immediately. So I did. And here we are."

"I know," Suzie says, hugging Santana back and giving her a big, wet kiss on her cheek and wriggling out of her embrace. "And thanks. But you guys owe me big time. You both _abandoned_ me. Me and _Kurt _my hamster. I felt so _alone_. Like nobody _loved_ me."

"Aaaw honey, don't be so dramatic. And being with your grandparents hardly qualifies as being abandoned and _alone_. And you already know we both love you," Santana says, smiling. She turns to Rachel now, "This is what I'm saying about you turning our daughter to such a drama queen."

"Figures," Sam mutters, smiling.

Santana glares at him. Sam wipes the smile off his face.

"Hey Aunt Quinn, Uncle Sam," she says to them as she turns back to Rachel, "Hey, Mee," Suzie says now, giving Rachel a big hug. "I hope you're not sad anymore. I hate to see you sad. I hope mom made you happy."

"Oh, she did, pumpkin, she did," Sam says now, knowingly, with a smirk.

Quinn comes up and smacks him upside on the head. "This is why you're still single Sam. You're a jerk."

"That's okay," Suzie says now, "I know. It's not like I don't know about the birds and the bees. Even the gay ones."

Santana and Rachel both furrow their eyebrows at her comment.

"I don't know what that means," Sam says.

"Yeah, 'cause apparently, unlike you, _loser_, Suzie can and actually _scored_ with a girl," Santana says with a smirk.

"You did?" Quinn says, looking at Suzie now.

Suzie grins.

"That's my goddaughter!" Quinn says, giving Suzie a hug.

"Santana Lopez, doing her part to make everyone gay! Even Rachel Berry!" Sam jokes.

"Shut up, jerk."

"Hey, it's cool," Sam says, "If you can't reproduce, recruit and convert right?"

"You forget we _can_ actually reproduce without the benefit of a man," Santana says with a triumphant smile.

"Aaaw, darn it, you're right!" Sam says, smiling back.

"And convert? What are we, _missionaries_?" Santana asks.

"Hey, mom, what's missionary position?" Suzie asks now.

"Where'd you hear that?" Santana asks, eyes suspicious, face growing red.

"_Tio_ Carlos said. I overheard him saying something about it," Suzie says, all innocence.

"I shall strangle your _Tio_ Carlos, honey, when we get home," Santana says. "But that's…not something you need to know 'til you're older."

"It's about sex isn't it?" Suzie asks.

"Suzie!" Santana and Rachel say at the same time, to the chuckles of Sam and Quinn. Santana shakes her head and says, "We'll talk about this later."

"Anyway! Gay Santana is the best Santana!" Sam says.

"Yep, like gay Rachel is the best Rachel," Quinn says. "Well, at least she's less annoying now. Being gay kind of upped your cool factor or something."

Santana and Rachel both roll their eyes.

"Hey, are there really gay birds and bees?" Suzie asks now, curious.

"I don't know about the bees, pumpkin," Sam says, "But I do know there are some bisexual babboons. And gay dolphins. And lesbian seagulls. _Ka-ka! Ka-ka!_"

"_Lesbian_ seagulls?" Santana asks, rolling her eyes. "_Really_, Sam? Really?" she asks sarcastically.

As they all laugh at Sam, Dr. Lopez, Santana's father, meanwhile, steps inside with a big grin on his face.

"_Buenas Dias_, everyone!" Dr. Lopez heartily announces to everyone. He grins, puts up a box of donuts for everyone to see and says, in his best Al Pacino voice, " _'Say hello to my little frien'!_ I got donuts!'"

"'Scarface'," Sam says. "Awesome."

Everyone grins back at Dr. Lopez and greet him with a good morning as he steps forward to hug Quinn, Santana and Rachel and thumps Sam on the back. Quinn offers Dr. Lopez some coffee, which he gladly accepts and thanks Quinn for as he takes a seat by the table.

Dr. Lopez is a big-boned, heavyset man in his mid-fifties with a jovial laugh and genial demeanor. He has a square face, a bulbous nose, sharp cheekbones, thick eyebrows, a ready grin and the most mischievous eyes one has ever seen, as if he is perpetually hatching a scheme. He has dark, chocolate brown skin, thick, shaggy hair streaked with gray and white, and a round belly that shakes when he laughs. He almost reminds Rachel a bit of a Latino Santa Claus. He is not handsome, but he exudes an aura that makes everyone gravitate towards him like bees to honey, makes women swoon, makes the men want to be friends with him, makes kids want him to be their godfather. It is perhaps because he is an intelligent, passionate, opinionated man who spent part of his youth volunteering when he was a Med student, travelled around South America rebels, bandits, drug lords, kidnappers, dictators be damned, and has just spent a year or so recently with "Doctors Without Borders" treating patients in poorer, less developed countries. He also devotes his time working with refugees, various charities and poor immigrant communities. Looking at him right now, Rachel knows where Santana gets the charisma, the passion, the outspokenness. Dr. Lopez is the dreamer between Santana's parents, Mrs. Lopez the practical, realistic one, the one who wanted Santana to finish her education, take the scholarship in Kentucky. When Santana had told her parents she had wanted to work in human rights and environmental law, it was Dr. Lopez who had been the most excited and until now, is still proud of his "badass lawyer daughter".

"Hey, Dr. JLo," Sam says.

"Dr. JLo?" Santana asks. "_Dad_…Where on earth did you get that name?"

"What? My name is Juan Fernando Jose de la Cruz Morales Lopez," Dr. Lopez explains, grinning. "JLo for short."

"Cool, so you're like…big ass JLo and Santana's like, assless JLo," Sam says, grinning.

"Shut up, Sam," Santana snaps. "And watch your language. And ugh, Dad, stop embarrassing me."

"I'm not embarrassing you, _Ney-ney_," Dr. Lopez says now, a teasing glint in his eye.

"_Ney-ney_? This is new. What does that mean?" Sam asks, curious.

"Dad, no," Santana says now, shaking her head, but Dr. Lopez has already gone on to say, "It's short for Negi, which is, in itself, short for Negrita. Which is Puerto Rican for 'little black girl'."

"Oh, crap. This is a nightmare," Santana says, eyes glancing around furtively as everyone, save Rachel, erupts in laughter, as Dr. Lopez explains that when Santana was little she was so dark people thought she was pure African American instead of just a quarter and nobody would believe she was Latina. Rachel had already heard this joke many times. She puts her hand on Santana's back and rubs her back methodically. "It's okay, honey, I still love you."

Santana smiles.

"Aaaw, _mija_, it's still better than what your Abuela from your mother's side used to call you, which was, what? _Garbage face_?" Dr. Lopez says, smiling affectionately at his daughter. "You know I adore you."

"I know, Dad, I know," Santana says.

"Hey, Dr. Lopez, why you looking at me? You looking at me?" Sam says now.

"Dad…" Santana begins, a warning tone in her voice.

"Naw, you're doing it wrong, Sam," Dr. Lopez says, changing his voice to Robert De Niro's, standing up and donning a swag posture, says, "_'You looking at me? You looking at me?'_"

"But nothing beats Marlon Brando, _amigo_," Dr. Lopez says. He then does his best Marlon Brando voice and says, "_'You gonna act like a man'…_"

Santana stares at her dad like she cannot believe he has embarrassed her yet again in front of her friends. "What on earth was that, Dad? You sounded like you've been doing 500 push-ups and are about to keel over!"

"That's Don Corleone, how dare you," Dr. Lopez says with a grin, to everyone's laughter. "_'I'm out of order! You're out of order! We're all out of order!_'" Dr. Lopez says now.

"'And Justice for All'," Sam says, "Classic. Never gets old."

Santana whips around to look at Sam. "Don't encourage him."

"What? Your dad's awesome! He does Arnold Schwarzennegger, too!" Sam says.

"'_I'll be back'_," Dr. Lopez says, putting on his best Arnold Schwarzennegger. "_'Look, I can benchpress with my eyelashes. I can kill you with my eyebrows.'_"

Santana stares at her father, then turns to Sam. "See, this is why we never lasted Sam. You were too busy dating my _dad_."

Everyone laughs.

"You mean you were too busy being in the closet and being head over heels in love with Brittany," Sam retorts, before turning to Rachel and sheepishly says, "Sorry, Rachel."

Rachel shakes her head. "It's fine," she says, enjoying the banter bouncing around in the kitchen. She realizes that it really _is_ fine.

"So, did you get us something from your trip?" Suzie asks Santana now, excitedly.

"Yes," Santana says. When Suzie whoops for joy, Santana quickly adds, "But you get to open your gift only on Christmas Eve, okay?"

"Aaaaw," Suzie groans, dejectedly. "And did you….?"

Suzie looks at Santana with a knowing expression on her face. Santana shakes her head and Suzie's shoulders slump a bit. Rachel wonders what Suzie has asked Santana.

"Don't worry, _mija_, you can open your _aguinaldo_ from us on _Noche Buena_ if your _Mami_ doesn't want you to open hers," Dr. Lopez says. "Speaking of which, your _Abuela_ from your mom's side is coming for _Noche Buena_ by the way." This is met by a groan from Santana and Suzie, after which Dr. Lopez says, "But _Tia_ Evita is coming, too," which is met by a "Yay!" from both and finally he announces, "And Max, too," which is met by a whoop from Suzie and a frown and a scrunch of her nose from Santana.

"Max? That scary cousin of yours who's always scowling and stuff?" Sam asks now. "She's creepy."

"Yeah," Santana says.

"You don't seem happy to hear she's coming," Rachel whispers, leaning over as Dr. Lopez and the others chatter on. "Aren't you excited to see her? You haven't seen each other in _ages_."

"Yeah…." Santana says. "But she kind of looks at you funny when she's _around_."

Rachel knits her brows, and frowns as this sinks in, before she throws her head back and laughs. "Aaaw, honey. You're jealous, that's so sweet. You know I prefer lawyers to soldiers."

Santana smiles.

"Hey, mom, check it out, _Abuelo_ has been teaching me Spanish songs!" Suzie says proudly now.

"Dad, you weren't…." Santana begins.

"Naw, relax, _mija_, strictly rated G only," Dr. Lopez says, as he nods to Suzie.

Suzie starts singing the first strains of "La Bamba", then she stops and says, "Sorry, I forgot the other lines. That's as far as I got. But I do have another for you that _Abuelo_ taught me." Then she starts singing, "_Love and marriage, love and marriage, go together like a horse and carriage_…" as Dr. Lopez watches her, encouraging her and joining her in song.

"Cool," Sam says when Suzie and Dr. Lopez finish up to the chorus. "I have a song, too. By Abba. I'm changing the lyrics a bit, Santana will sing it with me."

"What? No," Santana says, shaking her head.

Sam gets off his chair, puffs up his chest and overdramatically starts singing, "'_Love her or leave her, make your choice but believe her, she loves youuuuu',_" and he throws his arms up and to the side and motions to Santana to sing the rest of the line.

Everyone waits expectantly for Santana to sing the next line of the song, and Santana rolls her eyes and finally sings, "_I do, I do, I do, I do, I do…_"

Sam grins and he continues to sing, "_'She can't conceal it, don't you see, can't you feel it? Don't you tooooooo?..." _Then he looks at Santana, raises his eyebrows, nods his head and makes a rolling motion with his hand, as if to say, "Get on with it."

Santana hesitates, before she rolls her eyes as she sings, "_'I do, I do, I do, I do, I do…'_"

Quinn and Rachel laugh as Suzie squeals in delight and Dr. Lopez grins. Rachel's face softens as Santana pulls her closer. She leans over and whisper to Santana, "_I love you._"

Santana grins. "I love you, too."

"Oh, oh," Suzie says excitedly, "I've got another one. _Abuela_ taught me this."

"What is it, honey?" Rachel asks.

Suzie grins as she pulls out her iPod, searches for the song, and starts to play it. As the first strains of the song play, Rachel recognizes it as the Fifth Dimension's "Wedding Day Blues". Rumor has it Mrs. Schuester, formerly Miss Pillsbury, had been singing that song to Mr. Schuester that time she had wanted him to propose to her. She shudders at the memory of her former high school teachers' love lives.

Santana has a curious look on her face, the expression that is asking Suzie, "What are you up to now?"

But Suzie is all innocence as she sings, in her girlish voice,

"_Mee, She loves you so, she always will__  
__She looks at you and sees the passion eyes of May__  
__Oh, but am I ever gonna see your wedding day__  
__She was on your side Mee when you were losin'__  
__I never scheme or lie Mee, there's been no foolin'__  
__But kisses and love won't carry you till you marry her, Mee…"__  
_

As Santana stares at her daughter with a mixture of wonder, disbelief and adoration, she starts to shake her head, as Suzie starts to sing the next line,

"_She loves you so, She always will__  
__And in your voice I hear a choir of carousels__  
__Oh, but am I ever gonna hear your wedding bells__  
__She was the one who came runnin' when you were lonely__  
__You haven't lived one day not lovin' her only__  
__But kisses and love won't carry you til you marry her Mee…"_

Rachel starts to laugh as Suzie goes through the next lines of the song and towards the end, when everyone joins in, Rachel looks touched, overwhelmed, by the sweet gesture from their daughter, and the overall feeling she has now, this feeling of love, family.

"_Oh, come on Mee__  
__Oh, come on Mee__  
__Come on and marry her Mee__  
__You've got the wedding bell blues__  
__Please marry her Mee__  
__You've got the wedding bell blues__  
__Marry her Meeeeeee…"_

Santana is smiling but she looks uncomfortable now, squirming in her seat as Suzie finishes the song and her cheeks are the reddest Rachel has ever seen them.

As they all start laughing after the song, and starts to resume their chatter as Santana clears her throat and says, awkwardly, "We've…got to get our stuff. We have to get going."

"Okay," Suzie and the others say as she gets up and pulls Rachel along to the basement.

* * *

As Rachel and Santana gather their stuff, Santana clears her throat, "Oh, yeah, I got you something from back west, too."

"Yeah?" Rachel asks, absently, folding her clothes and arranging them neatly in her bag.

"Yeah," Santana says, "It's in my bag."

"Okay," Rachel replies, checking that all her stuff, including her make-up kit, her toiletries and other accoutrements are already in her bag.

"Don't you want to see it?" Santana asks.

"I thought Suzie and I weren't supposed to see them til Christmas Eve?" Rachel asks, looking up at Santana now.

"Well, think of it as an early Christmas present," Santana says. "It's in my bag."

Rachel looks at her, wonders why Santana is wringing her hands so obsessively, so she sighs and says, "Okay. I'll bite. Where is it?"

"It's in my bag. The small one."

"Okay," Rachel says, picking up one of the bags. "May I?"

"Sure," Santana says.

"Where is it?" Rachel asks, rummaging through her things.

"It's in there," Santana says, coming closer, looking a little anxious.

"I can't…" Rachel says, "can't find it…"

A small, black, velvet box tumbles out of the bag and makes a thump, thump, thumping sound as it bounces on the floor. The sound makes Rachel look down on the floor, a few feet from her shoes as she looks for the thing that made the sound.

When she does spot it, her brows knit together, as she bends down to pick up the box.

"What's this?" Rachel asks, feeling her heart start to beat a little bit faster, feeling a muddled mix of fear, anxiety, confusion, _hope_ start to burgeon in her being. She hopes this is what she thinks it is, but she also does not want to get her hopes up, lest it be shattered so mercilessly against the floor, like it has in the past. She has her eyes on the box, is resisting the urge to look up at Santana, to confirm or not confirm her suspicions. But she cannot help it, and she looks up to see Santana looking intently at her.

"I got it from this old woman," Santana begins, softly, "I'd been going around San Fran the whole day, looking for gifts, something for you and Suzie, and there was this shop, it was small and quaint and looked exactly like the kind of place where you had your dreams and fortunes foretold and stuff. It smelled of incense and scented candles and herbs and stuff. I think you would have loved it there. This lady sold different stuff, and I went around and I saw this and I don't know…it kind of just…reeled me in…couldn't really stop staring at it."

Rachel tilts her head now as, with shaking fingers, she starts to open the box and Santana continues, "I don't know how long I stood there, but I remember that the first thought that came to mind was you. And how you'd love this. And I remembered how much you loved this kind of stuff. And I thought about how happy you would be if you saw this…how you would smile that silly smile that reaches from ear to ear…how your eyes would light up…how you would look at me like I've just discovered the cure for cancer…how you would look at me like I'm the only one that existed…and I realized…then and there…I wanted to spend my whole life making you smile…making your eyes light up…making you look at me like I was the only one that existed…and I realized I'd wanted to do that for a long time…except that I just didn't have the courage to tell you…I just keep getting scared…but I'm not scared now…"

As Rachel's heart pounds so hard she cannot hear herself think for the ringing in her ears, Santana steps forward, closing the distance. She is so close that Rachel can swear she can hear Rachel's heart beating so fast against her rib cage. Santana brings up her hand to tilt her chin up so she can see Santana's face. Santana's hand is cold and clammy on Rachel's chin. Santana's eyes are soft, hopeful, so full of love for her. Then she smiles, and very softly, very tenderly, she says, "Will you…" she swallows, "Marry me, Rachel?"

* * *

_**Author's end notes:**_

_**That's it for this chapter! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! :) Many thanks to everyone for reading this and for your kind, kind reviews. Your reviews power me through and inspire me. :)**_

_**As for Chapter 18 - glad everyone enjoyed it! ;) Also, special shout-out and many thanks to my beta, DragonsWillFly, who stayed up late to go over this chapter even after being awake for more than 15 hours! You are the best! Thanks for going over this for me! Couldn't have done it without you and your sharp, eagle eyes! :)**_

_**Also, points for everyone if they recognize all the references! hahah! :) Because my beta and I are theater geeks! Well, hardcore geeks about everything really! Haha! ;)**_

_**To MelovePezberry - Good to have you back! Re: Q's - yes, I think it's awesome. RE: Rachel singing and song selections - thanks! Thanks for reading and reviewing!**_

_**To parker88 - Re: Musical selections - thanks. Re: Quinn being a good friend, the talk- yes, because female friendships have always been something that was never featured in the show. :) Thanks for reading and reviewing.**_

_**To CarolineSC - Re: Would Love to see her do this on the shoe, after the big Finchel breakup lol - hahah! I'd love to see that! Then Santana shows up and they make out! :) Thanks for reading and reviewing! ;)**_

_**To amazinglife18 - Re: Quinn's husband - yes, he is that. :) Re: "Q's" is such a charming place with Merlott - yes, it is that. :) Re: Quinn and Sam get Rachel drunk,with all the singing - yes, that was the plan! :) Re: You have a great taste in music - Thanks! RE: Rachel is adorable - isn't she just? :) Re: Santana showing up, It was so romantic, San all goddess - Yes, Santana is a goddess! Santana can do no wrong! :) Yes, it's a bit of a homage to rom coms! ;) Thanks for reading and reviewing.**_

_**To dayabieberxo -**_

_**Re: Everything you said - hope this chapter answers your questions, re: Santana and Rachel's issues. Re: I think my reviews are a little too long lol - it's fine, I enjoy your reviews! Re: This story is amazing!- thanks! Thanks for reading and reviewing. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!**_

_**To sammywammy1120 Re: The stupid energy exchange thing lol - Had to be done! :) Glad you liked it! I just thought it really was stupid. :) Re: I love this story!- Glad you love this story! Thanks for reading and reviewing! ;)**_

_**To kutee Re: I'm going to view it as my birthday gift from you.- Happy birthday! :) Re: Sam singing - yeah, he's one of the few male characters in the show that's likeable for me. :) Re: I so happy that San made it to Lima - Glad it made you happy! Re: see I never give up on her - Glad you never gave up on her! ;) Thanks for reading and reviewing! Christmas came early this year, too! :)**_

_**To VickiiMadd - Re: *Cries on the floor in a fetal position and dies in happiness*- I really liked your review! Thanks for reading and reviewing! Hope you're still alive after this chapter! :)**_

_**Featured songs for this chapter: **_

_**"Through the Barricades" by Spandau Ballet (reprise)**_

_**"The Sound of Music" from Rodgers and Hammerstein's "The Sound of Music"**_

_**"La Bamba" by Richie Valens**_

_**"Love and Marriage"**_

_**"I do, I do, I do" by Abba**_

_**"Wedding Day Blues" by the Fifth Dimension**_


	20. Feliz Navidad

**_Author's note: Team Pezberry! Chapter 20 is up! Happy reading!_**

* * *

Santana looks at her steadily, tenderly, as Rachel stares at a golden ring inside the box. Rachel is quiet, mesmerized, speechless, what Santana has just asked her sinking in. There were only a couple of times in the past when someone has asked her to marry them. The first was Finn Hudson, and she barely remembers how he proposed. It was something wholly uninspired, that is what she remembers, and mostly, it came from Finn's desperate attempt to cling to her then, as they were both about to graduate from high school and her life was about to begin in New York, and his, self-absorbed, selfish boyfriend that he was, had ended as he had nothing, no football scholarship, no NYADA, nothing. The second was her ex-husband and it was equally unmemorable, forgettable, almost impulsive, and the nice garden wedding that followed, attended by close family and friends just seemed as equally uninspired.

And so, now, when Santana asks her the question she has been waiting for her to ask since she realized she was in love with Santana, Rachel is suddenly left speechless. Her heart is still pounding in her ears, the butterflies have fluttered and taken off from her stomach, seeming to have taken her voice with her.

Santana takes her silence to mean something other than what she might have expected Rachel to have answered, so Santana begins to speak again, almost a bit panicky, afraid, nervous, as she says, by way of explanation, "It's called a Claddagh ring. It's an Irish thing. My grandfather from my mother side, he has some Irish blood in him. I don't remember him much, but he used to talk about Claddagh rings. He says it's some kind of traditional token of friendship, love, engagements, marriage. It's supposed to mean faith, trust, loyalty. I thought maybe this would be perfect. To seal the deal, as it were. Just in case you still have lingering doubts about us."

Rachel continues to stare at the ring in the box. It is beautiful, she thinks. The light from the basement window above glints off the gold. It is two hands clasping a heart, with a crown on top of the heart. She is fascinated by the shape of the heart - the heart looks so robust, like it is going to burst with so much love in it. She has heard of Claddagh rings of course, has thought them very romantic, has heard that being given a ring like this usually meant something deeper, something more permanent, something _forever_.

Rachel suddenly snaps to attention when Santana speaks again.

"I'm sorry it's not a diamond ring," Santana says now, apologetically. "I know that's the traditional ring that I'm supposed to give when I propose, and I know it's not perfect, and asking you this, right now, in this basement, while we're rushing to get our stuff so we can get home, I know the timing's off but…"

"Oh, San," Rachel says, choking on her words. "It's perfect. You're perfect. Everything's perfect."

Santana seems surprised. "It is?"

"Yes," Rachel says, nodding. "And of course, I'd marry you. What took you so long?"

"You will?" Santana asks, incredulous now, as if this is not quite the answer she has expected.

"You sound shocked," Rachel comments, a slow smile spreading on her lips. "I'd been waiting for you to propose since…forever. I thought you'd never _ask_."

A slow smile starts to spread on Santana's face as well. "Really? You mean that?"

Rachel rolls her eyes now, the pounding of her heart subsiding, replaced by relief, and an onslaught of happiness as she says, "Duh. Of course I mean it."

"I thought maybe after all the times I've fucked up, you wouldn't want to marry me anymore," Santana says now, uncertainly, "I mean, it _does_ mean being stuck with me forever."

Rachel throws back her head and laughs. "Silly. If there was one person I wouldn't mind being stuck with forever, it would be you." She holds the box towards Santana, "Yes, Santana Lopez, there's nothing in the world I want more than to marry you. Can you put it on my finger now please?"

Santana sighs in relief and grins as she takes the box, takes out the ring, takes hold of Rachel's left hand, runs her thumb on Rachel's ring finger and with the Claddagh ring gripped between thumb and forefinger, she slips the ring onto Rachel's finger, the point of the heart towards the fingertips, all the while saying, "It's kind of a promise, baby. No matter what happens, just remember I love you. That's all you need to know."

Rachel smiles as she looks at the ring. "You've put it on all wrong."

"No, that's the right position, baby. It means you're engaged," Santana explains.

"Ah," Rachel barely utters the word out before Santana grabs her face and kisses her with a long, deep, kiss.

Rachel pulls back breathless and smiling.

"Thank you," Santana says.

"For what?"

Santana smiles. "For saying yes."

They stand there, facing each other, smiling, thought of leaving the basement forgotten. But then Rachel reluctantly says, "I guess we've got to get going."

Santana sighs. "Yes."

Santana moves to start changing from her sweatpants into jeans and a blouse and Rachel spies some smooth, tan skin glistening from between the change of clothes and she smiles to herself, realizing suddenly that Santana is now her fiancée and that they are going to be married soon. The thought of the wedding and the wedding plans itself, fills her suddenly with excitement as she imagines hours of just planning the wedding itself, the reception, the venue, the food, the motif, the wedding dress, the _shoes_, everything. She wishes she had some paper and pens now, just so she could plan and storyboard the wedding right down to the last detail. She snaps her luggage shut as she spies Santana turning to look at her.

"What do you think?" Santana says.

"What?"

Santana gestures to her outfit. She is wearing a blouse, tight jeans, a fur-lined jacket, long, high-heeled boots, a scarf, and long, silver, teardrop earrings. Her hair cascades down her shoulders and back in dark waves. She is wearing light make-up, some glossy lipstick that makes her lips all the more pretty. She is gorgeous.

Rachel shrugs. "It looks okay."

Santana furrows her brows. "What?"

Rachel shrugs nonchalantly again. "Yeah, something's wrong. Come on over here."

Santana walks over to her, still wondering what is wrong, when Rachel reaches out her hands, hooks her fingers on Santana's belt hoops and pulls her towards her, starts to remove her belt and unzip her jeans and says, "Yeah, this is not right. This should be off." She then pulls at Santana's jeans as she steps forward to kiss Santana. Santana grins.

Santana's hand goes to Rachel's face, then the small of Rachel's back, as the kisses turn more intense, heated, and they both fall to the bed, Santana's thigh instinctively finding its place between Rachel's legs as Santana's lips and tongue slip and slide on Rachel's throat and chest, quick, deft fingers unbuttoning Rachel's shirt, fingers finding and caressing bare skin underneath Rachel's bra. Rachel brings her hands to Santana's face, pulls her up so they can kiss some more as she helps Santana shrug out of her jacket. Their bodies start to rock into each other, moans swallowed by their kisses. Rachel tugs at her jeans, pushes it down her waist, pulls at her waist so Santana is pressed closer to her as they settle more comfortably on the bed. Desperate hands fumble to unzip Rachel's jeans, fingers slipping into Rachel's underwear, but then they hear a loud knock on the basement door upstairs. Santana groans as she reluctantly pulls away from Rachel's lips and turns towards the noise.

"Yeah? What?" Santana impatiently shouts up at the door, as Rachel's hand goes to Santana's neck, thumb on Santana's jaw and cheek, thumb tracing her cheek lovingly.

"Sorry to interrupt, but was just wondering if you have any plans of coming up anytime soon," Quinn's muffled voice comes from behind the door. "I still have some stuff to do and I really don't want to sit through your dad and Sam's impersonations the whole day."

Santana sighs, then shouts back, "Yeah, we're coming up. We're just fixing up here. Sorry."

"Okay," Quinn shouts back, "Don't be long."

They hear receding footsteps as Quinn retreats.

Santana brings her head back to Rachel, and rests her forehead on Rachel's forehead. She then grins and says, "Sorry, baby, I guess rain check?"

Rachel smiles back. "Yeah, I guess so. But you're in a lot of trouble later."

"Can't wait," Santana says, chuckling, as she kisses Rachel while she reluctantly gets off her.

Santana stands up and pulls up her jeans. Rachel sits up and moves to the edge of the bed, helps Santana zip up her jeans and fasten her belt. Rachel smiles as Santana mumbles a thank you. She watches as Santana runs a hand through her unruly, dark, wave of hair and smooths her blouse. As she sits there looking at her, Rachel realizes she is going to finally marry Santana. The thought makes her heart leap. Makes her glance at the ring on her finger.

Santana now turns to her and says, "Uh, baby…"

"Yeah?" Rachel asks.

"Do you mind if we just keep this to ourselves for now?" Santana asks. "I mean, it's okay and stuff for people to know…I kind of just…want to enjoy just having this private thing between us, until people kind of start teasing us about it and stuff."

Rachel smiles and says, "Okay."

* * *

When they both re-appear in the kitchen, Quinn, Sam, Dr. Lopez and Suzie are now joined by Jeffrey and Aidan and the chatter is so loud, with at least two or three simultaneous conversations punctuated with laughter that when the door opens to reveal them, there is a brief silence as everyone looks at both of them, Rachel blushes as all eyes are trained on them, and they all nod or wave a hand or greet them as they return to their conversations.

Quinn comes up to Santana, pushes Santana's hair aside, stares in disbelief at her neck and hisses, "_Another_ hickey?!"

"Well, look on the bright side," Sam whispers, who has come up from behind to smirk at the women, "At least we know they really _do_ have an amazing sex life. Nice, Santana. _Really_ nice."

Santana glares at him. "You're a pig, Sam, shut up," Santana hisses. To everyone else, she clears her throat, raises her voice and says, "Alright, hate to break this party up, but we really have to get going now. Sorry. Hey, Jeffrey!"

"Hey, Santana," Jeffrey says, grinning. "Nice to see you again. It's been so long."

"Yeah." Santana says.

"Well, I guess we've got to get going now," Dr. Lopez says, pushing back from the table and getting up. "Sam get the bags, Suzie, you two, get in the car. Quinn thanks for the coffee. Jeffrey, it was nice chatting with you again. Come by the house sometime, we'll have coffee or something."

Quinn grins as Jeffrey says, "That would be great, Dr. Lopez. Thank you. Thanks for the donuts."

Sam moves to get Santana and Rachel's bags and grunts as he bumps into things on his way out of the backdoor, Suzie following him. "Ugh, Rachel, what the hell is in your bag, your whole _house_?"

"You don't want to know," Santana shouts back at him before Rachel turns to look at her. "Sorry."

"Alright, you guys, I'll see you around, okay?" Quinn says, moving to hug both Santana and Rachel. "Come by again sometime, okay? I don't see you guys often enough."

"Okay," Santana and Rachel both say.

"And thanks," Rachel says to Quinn, "For everything."

Quinn shakes her head. "Don't mention it. To anyone. _Ever_. I mean it."

Rachel laughs. "Okay. My lips are sealed."

Dr. Lopez moves to hug Quinn as well and shake Jeffrey's hand. "Sorry to have invaded your house. I'll see you around. Bye Aidan!"

The two women say goodbye to the child as well, a chubby blue-eyed, blonde five year old boy who has Quinn's face and Jeffrey's gender.

Rachel shivers as she steps out into the cold and Santana moves to put an arm around her. "Cold?"

"Yeah," Rachel says as they move to Dr. Lopez's SUV.

The house, the whole neighborhood, is blanketed in soft snow and it looks all pristine and romantic, Rachel thinks, as they walk towards the SUV.

Suzie has safely placed herself in the backseat, safely buckled up beside the window just behind the driver's seat. As they watch Sam finish loading up the bags at the back of the SUV, they see Sam getting into the passenger side near the driver seat.

"Oh, god, is Sam coming with us?" Santana asks.

"Seems like it," Rachel says.

"Ugh. We need to find this sad, sad man a girlfriend," Santana mutters as they get into the car as Rachel chuckles.

"Are you _coming_ with us?" Santana asks Sam as she gets in after Rachel and slams the door behind her. "Don't you have your own house?"

"Santana, where are your manners? I'm just giving him a lift, okay?" Dr. Lopez says, starting the engine.

Rachel sees Santana roll her eyes as she buckles herself into the seat.

"Fine, but if you guys do anymore of your impersonations, I'll scream," Santana mutters.

The two men laugh. As they back out of the driveway, they all turn to wave goodbye to Quinn, Jeffrey and Aidan.

Putting on his best Antonio Banderas voice, Dr. Lopez says, "'_My name is Puss, in Boots_'."

Suzie dissolves in giggles as Dr. Lopez makes to pretend like he is coughing up furballs while he turns on the stereo and the men start bobbing their head to the music.

Santana rolls her eyes as she puts her left arm around Rachel. Rachel puts her hand on Santana's left thigh, even as she pulls Suzie closer.

"I've missed you, Mee," Suzie says now, softly. "Don't leave like that again, okay?"

"I'm sorry, honey," Rachel says now, "I won't."

"Okay."

As Suzie plays with Rachel's left hand, her fingers slide to Rachel's left ring finger and sees the ring there.

"Hey, Mee, did Mom…?" Suzie asks now, barely above a whisper, excitement in her voice and in her eyes as she looks up to Rachel.

"What?"

Suzie makes to point at Rachel's left ring finger, at the Claddagh safely ensconced on it. Rachel smiles and nods. Suzie grins a wide grin, claps her hands together, squirms and all but squeals in delight and excitement.

"Honey, you're not supposed to tell…"

"Okay, your secret is safe with me," Suzie whispers now. She leans over and says, "Thanks for telling me, Mee."

"Of course!" Rachel says. "Why wouldn't I?"

Suzie giggles. "This is awesome, Mee!"

* * *

The ride does not take long, it _is_ Lima, Ohio after all, but it feels long as Dr. Lopez and Sam alternate between Dr. Lopez's playlist, which consisted of the classics, such as Nat King Cole, the Platters, Jose Feliciano, Santana, Eagles, Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath, Queen and Kiss, whilst Sam plays boy band songs. For some strange reason, despite the generation gap and different tastes in music, they have a passionate discussion on music.

Santana rolls her eyes as they are forced to sit through the discussion. Suzie sits oblivious as she is listens to her iPhone.

"See that's the thing with the music you kids today have, it's just tones and noise, there's no melody, nothing," Dr. Lopez is saying as Queen plays in the background. "I mean, take Lady Giga for instance…"

"I think that's Lady Gaga, Dad," Santana corrects him.

"Whatever, I still don't call that music," Dr. Lopez says. "Or art for that matter."

"Well, there's some pretty good music out there, Dr. JLo," Sam says, "It's probably just a matter of, you know, sifting through the crap to get at the good music, you know?"

Santana leans over and whispers, "Feels like high school all over again."

Rachel grins, squeezes her thigh.

Santana leans over, "Sam, you don't need to impress my dad anymore. We're not dating."

Sam chuckles. "I know. Just educating your dad, is all."

Santana sits back, pulls Rachel nearer to her.

Sam plays NSync, West Life, 98Degrees, Backstreet Boys, A1 and Blue as Santana scowls at the back. They listen to a few other songs, before Dr. Lopez announces it is time for Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody.

"Group sing!" he announces cheerfully, and the rest of the car ride is devoted to the group singing Bohemian Rhapsody over and over again.

Sam drops himself off just outside downtown a few minutes later and Dr. Lopez proceeds to Lima Heights.

* * *

When they arrive at the Lopezes, Mrs. Lopez, Carlos, Carlitos all welcome Dr. Lopez and the three with welcoming arms. Suzie makes a beeline for the living room, where Carlitos has already gone, and they both plop down on the couch to watch cartoons, whilst playing with Suzie's hamster, Kurt. Suzie makes a promise not to tease, bully or otherwise use Carlitos for any of her holiday experiments, to which Suzie grudgingly admits to. Everyone greets Rachel as if the other day had not happened.

"Hey, you," Mrs. Lopez says as she engulfs Rachel in a tight hug before she steps back and smiles at her. "Glad to have you back. You hungry? I made tacos."

"Hey, Rachel," Carlos says, coming up to them to carry Rachel and Santana's bags.

Rachel smiles at him as she hands her bags to him.

Carlos is a few inches taller than Santana, of medium build and attractive. He has their father's charisma, and their mother's looks. He has dark, thick neatly-trimmed hair, an equally neatly-trimmed goatee and muscled chest and arms and sunburnt, chocolate brown skin, a product of his younger years spent under the sun. Which is in contrast to his son, Carlitos, who is short, rotund and very pale, and likes to spend his time in either the living room or the kitchen. He has an addiction to video and computer games and an aversion to any kind of physical activity. In fact, the joke in the Lopez household is that he was _raised_ in the kitchen and nowhere else.

Carlos now turns to Santana and says, knowingly, with a smirk on his face, "Hey, Santana, tacos are the best aren't they? _Huevos_ suck."

Santana makes a face. "_Huevos_, ugh. _No me gusta_," she says before realizing what Carlos' double entendre means, then she comes up and hits Carlos upside on the head for the sexual innuendo. "You're a pig, Carlos. What have you been teaching my kid?"

"Nothing," Carlos says, defensively, rubbing the back of his head with his hand.

"Then how come she comes up to me asking me what missionary positions are?" she demands.

Carlos blushes. "Sorry. Not my best moment, must admit."

"Well, can you at least try not to say stuff like that in front of my kid while we're here?" Santana says.

Carlos grins. "I'll try." He ducks to avoid Santana's hand as it moves to hit him on the head again.

As they all follow Carlos up the stairs, Dr. Lopez calls up to them to stop and the three turn to listen to him.

"Err," Dr. Lopez says, clearing his throat. "Just to warn you, the toilet is acting up again, so don't panic if the bowl kind of boils over and hot steam comes out. Just, step away from the toilet bowl when it does that. Unless you want to have a butt facial."

Rachel and Santana make a face as Carlos chuckles.

"Ugh, you're so embarrassing," Mrs. Lopez says, coming up to him now. Then to the younger people she says, "Your father is such a cheapskate he doesn't want to go and just hire a plumber or something to fix the damn thing."

"I am _not_ a cheapskate," Dr. Lopez says, "I just think if Carlos and I can fix it, then why hire professionals?"

Mrs. Lopez rolls her eyes. "Fine. Also, the shower in your room's a bit funny, too. Takes forever for the water to heat up. Also, when somebody flushes the toilet, the shower _dies_. Best to shower together, save time and money."

"That's a great idea," Carlos says, "If you don't ever want to see either of them again. And want a big water bill. I know Santana. She and Brittany used to enjoy the same thing."

Rachel and Santana both grimace and blush. "You're an ass, Carlos," Santana says now as she makes to say a disclaimer to Rachel, "It's not…true…I mean…sort of…"

"Carlos, what Santana and Rachel do in the privacy of their room is their business. As long as you guys…keep the noise down…And lock your door at all times," Mrs. Lopez says, now. "_You_, mister, on the other hand, bringing women home and making out with them on the family couch for your parents to see, that's a whole different thing."

Santana moves closer to Rachel who is blushing at what Mrs. Lopez has said, and says, "Take me away from them please."

Rachel grins. "I think your family is cute."

"You say that now, just wait til you've been with them for a few days," Santana says as she moves to go up the stairs.

Rachel grins.

* * *

Their stay at the Lopezes is, to Rachel, pretty action-packed, as the Lopez household becomes a bit busier, noisier, more crowded, with relatives, friends, former and current patients of Dr. Lopez, and other people coming for a visit, a cup of coffee, a chat with the Lopezes. Being an only child in a very self-contained, nuclear family, Rachel thinks the Lopez household during the holidays is quite an experience. Santana though views it as pretty uneventful. "This is nothing. You should be here when _all_ the Lopezes come out of the woodwork during someone's _quinciñera_, or baptism or something," Santana says with a grin.

Rachel is a bit embarrassed but touched that whenever she is around, Dr. and Mrs. Lopez would tell visitors, without batting an eyelash, "And this is Santana's lovely Rachel…and their daughter, Suzie…"

They do not know how they do it, but they manage to keep their engagement under wraps. Suzie, surprisingly promises to not tell anyone.

Suzie goes with her grandparents to _Misa de Gallo_ until Christmas Eve. Santana and Rachel have agreed that Suzie will not be raised strictly in the Catholic or Jewish faith, but that she would be exposed to both religions and can choose which faith she eventually wants to follow when she is old enough to decide. So when her grandparents ask Santana and Rachel if their daughter could come to _Misa de Gallo_, Catholic Sunday mass and her abuela's _Novena_ for the _Virgencita_, they allow her. Suzie is delighted and takes to the Catholic services like a fish to water. She comes home fascinated with the church, the homily, the incense, the whole ceremony that happens.

Suzie sleeps in the attic, Carlitos in the basement. She insists on having her own room, Rachel suspects, so she can talk to Kate, which she does, regularly, on Skype. Mostly they stay in the living room glued to the television screen, occasionally joined by Dr. Lopez and Carlos, sometimes by Rachel and Santana, watching football, boxing or some other sport if there is one showing, or the news, or the latest telenovela or American TV show.

Each Lopez has a different taste when it comes to TV shows, but they all do agree on action adventure movies. They watch Lord of the Rings once and Carlos leans over to Santana and Rachel overhears him saying, "I don't know about you, but that 'Eye of Sauron' thing? Looks definitely like a flaming vagina." Santana stares at him, silent, before she brings up her palm and hits him on the head.

Another time, they catch one of the more popular teen shows, "True Delights", a high school vampire werewolf TV musical that has everyone glued to the screen.

"Wow," Santana breathes, "This is so _bad_, but I can't stop _watching_ it."

Rachel laughs. "What _is_ this anyway?"

"It's like 'Twilight' meets 'Vampire Diaries' meets 'Teen Wolf' meets 'True Blood' meets 'Sweet Valley High' meets 'High School Musical', "Santana says.

Rachel stops and watches it for a few minutes. "Wow, it's really bad, but you're right, it's addictive," she says. "And that guy singing while he turns into a werewolf…so weird…"

"Oh, you should watch the episode where the snarky, anorexic, bitchy cheerleader realizes she's a vampire _and_ a lesbian," Santana says. "Her coming out song was pretty awesome. 'Bullets with Butterfly Wings' by Smashing Pumpkins." She starts singing the first line, "_The world is a vampire…_"

While they watch and discuss whatever they are watching, Rachel finishes the musical arrangements for Brooklyn Beatz and emails the arrangements to her students, whilst checking to see if they are practicing for the quarter finals. She then starts checking quizzes and papers, to Santana's consternation and Rachel's apologetic smile ("If I don't do this now, I will never be able to finish this," Rachel explains).

Sometimes these TV viewing sessions would be punctuated by arguments among the Lopezes, mostly about sports.

One such discussion had Rachel listening fascinated to Santana argue the finer points of each boxing division, from something called bantam weight to welter weight to heavy weight division, with names such as Muhammad Ali, Rocky Marciano, Sugar Ray Leonard, Mike Tyson, Evander Holyfield Manny Pacquiao, Morales, Miguel Cotto tossed around among the three as they talk about boxers, footwork and punches. After this topic is exhausted, they move on to UFC, kickboxing, martial arts and team sports, mostly the contact sports such as hockey, football and rugby. Rachel had never been interested in sports, and finds it quite interesting every time she sees Santana Lopez light up over sports.

Once one evening of listening to Dr. Lopez, Carlos and Santana talk about boxing whilst watching a boxing match on television, Mrs. Lopez leans over to Rachel and asks, "Bored?"

Rachel is sitting beside Santana, on the couch, Santana's left arm casually draped on her shoulder as Santana argues with her father and Carlos about why golf should not be considered a sport before moving on to boxing. Beside Rachel, sitting on a separate chair, is Mrs. Lopez, knitting. The kids, Suzie and Carlitos, are busy playing their PSPs on the floor, Kurt the hamster running on his treadmill beside Suzie.

When Rachel shakes her head in answer, Mrs. Lopez smiles and says, "Me, too. These guys with their sports. Carlos and his father used to teach Santana how to punch people so she knows how to defend herself. She has a mean left hook, that one."

"I know, I think I may have seen her once or twice unleash that on the McKinley populace," Rachel says, grinning, remembering that fight Santana had with Quinn.

"She's cocky, that one," Mrs. Lopez says, smiling, indicating Santana. Rachel turns back to look at Mrs. Lopez, "I remember when she took on that Lauren Zizes girl and I had a call from your Principal Figgins for that."

Rachel smiles. "Yes, I imagine you had a handful with Santana."

Mrs. Lopez smiles. "Between her and Carlos, and their cousin, Max, yes, I did have a handful when they were younger."

Rachel smiles back.

Mrs. Lopez leans over now, puts a hand on Rachel's thigh. "That's why I never expected her to turn out the way she did. It kind of surprises me even now. I mean the way she is with her family… Suzie…her work…"

Rachel smiles.

Mrs. Lopez continues, "I think…" she hesitates, then she says, "I think part of it is probably the people she's been with…you…you've been so wonderful to her, Rachel, so patient with her, and I think you've helped her a lot, especially after Brittany…"

Rachel does not know what to say.

"I mean… I'm so happy she's found someone like you," Mrs. Lopez says, "You take such good care of her. And I'm so happy you'll finally officially be my daughter-in-law…"

Rachel stares at her, surprised.

"Oh, I have my ways of knowing. Santana Lopez is my daughter after all," Mrs. Lopez says mysteriously. "But having you finally be a part of our family like this? It's wonderful."

Rachel smiles, touched by what Mrs. Lopez has said, leans over and hugs her.

She thinks the Lopezes might be the greatest family _ever_.

* * *

Santana and Carlos' surly, sullen cousin, Max, an army lieutenant at the American military base in South Korea, arrives a day before Christmas, having flown in straight from Korea to spend Christmas with the Lopezes. Max, who is about the same height as Santana, has muscled arms, big shoulders and the tattoo of a tiger peering out of her left shoulder, comes from Dr. Lopez's side of the family. She is taciturn, aloof and speaks in grunts and one-word sentences and is given to nods when Rachel starts talking to her. She has golden brown skin, long wavy hair that is either in a ponytail or is kept loose around her shoulders, large, hooded eyes, and a perpetual smirk on her face. She has an easy, laidback demeanor and is usually slouched on the couch, playing video games with Suzie and Carlitos. She is Dr. Lopez's sister's daughter, and the Lopezes had taken her in during her adolescence. She left home once she graduated from McKinley to join the army.

_Tia_ Evita, Mrs. Lopez's younger sister, arrives on the same day. _Tia_ Evita is a tall, lithe beautiful woman with long, dark, wavy hair, the fullest, roundest bosom Rachel has ever seen, and the sexiest body this side of Ohio. She has a strong accent, and Santana teases her about being able to speak English only in the present tense, but she is able to shut Santana up by saying that Santana can usually only speak Spanish in the present tense, too. _Tia_ Evita comes with their mother, Mrs. Hecht, a small, severe woman who rarely smiled and looked at everyone with sharp, expressionless, watchful eyes. Santana has told her this was the Abuela she had come out to, and they had not seen or talked to each other in years, seeing as Mrs. Hecht disowned and declared Santana dead to her for coming out to her as a lesbian so many years ago. Santana is unhappy and uncomfortable that she would be here now, of all times, but Mrs. Hecht is also Mrs. Lopez and Tia Evita's mother and she has insisted on coming now. Santana, Rachel, Carlos, Max, Carlitos and Suzie avoid her at home at all costs, choosing instead to bundle up and brave the cold Ohio weather, and go skating in the frozen lake by the park, or sledding up the slope near the park and sliding downhill to the center of the lake or hanging out at the mall, or the Lima Bean.

Rachel enjoys these little excursions. Particularly enjoys Santana teaching her how to skate, Santana behind her, pressed to her back, her left arm holding Rachel's waist, right hand holding Rachel's palm as Rachel clumsily goes over the lake in uncomfortable skating shoes. Suzie, ever graceful, ever the dancer, skates circles around them, pirouettes, does figure eights, twirls and turns and dips and grins as she watches Rachel struggle with her skating shoes. She would stop just in front of Rachel and sweetly say, "Toepick", to Rachel and Santana's annoyance.

They have better luck with the sleds, as this usually means just sitting on a board, Rachel between Santana's legs as they push down the hill and Rachel screams and closes her eyes and clings to Santana's legs. Santana holds her tightly across the chest as they whoosh down the hill and onto the frozen lake. Suzie slides down the lake on a sled with Max, Carlos slides down with Carlitos. They all slide down the hill over and over again until they get tired and start throwing snowballs at each other. When they get tired of that, they make snow angels on the ground or make strange snow men that people stop and gawk at.

When they get too cold from being outside, they troop to the Lima Bean for the much-needed hot cup of hot choco with marshmallows and cookies, or go to the mall to watch a movie or troop over to Domino's, which Santana and Rachel believe to be the crappiest pizza joint outside Brooklyn, but they agree to go for lack of any other better restaurants.

Suzie visits her grandparents, the Pierces, during this time also, and they visit her mother's grave as well. When Santana and Suzie visit the grave, Rachel goes with them, and standing there, a respectful distance as mother and daughter kneel in front of the grave, talking to each other, talking to Brittany, brushing away the snowflakes that have gathered on her grave, Rachel only feels peace now, and a quiet acceptance. These days, when she thinks of Brittany, she remembers a young blonde, blue-eyed woman who was also her friend, who danced beautifully and gracefully and was the sweetest, nicest woman she had ever known.

* * *

Rachel thinks nothing can ruin the holidays for her. Not even that time when she had visited her parents and everything went awry…

* * *

Rachel visits her parents at Birch Hill Road alone, has dinner with them a couple of times or so during the holidays. The dinners are awkward, filled with uncomfortable silences, false starts and stops as they talk about Rachel's work and life now, and they tell her about the repairs on the house, the gardening, their parties, the book club, who is hooking up with whom and who is breaking up with whom. Rachel and her fathers are careful about the one topic they have all carefully avoided for five years, Santana Lopez, and the many things associated with her: Suzie, Brooklyn, Taft High, a life that is the opposite of what they had envisioned for their talented, perfect little Broadway gem of a daughter, the daughter they had invested so much endless singing lessons, dance lessons, acting lessons and music lessons on. One such dinner at the Berrys had not turned out very well.

It starts when, in the middle of dinner, Rachel glances at her watch and announces she might have to get going, as it is getting late and Santana is waiting for her.

"Aren't you staying here, dear?" her father, Hiram, asks. "I mean your room is still in the same condition as it was in when you left it. You can just stay here."

"Yes, it's a virtual shrine for you actually," Leroy says, smiling.

"Umm," Rachel says, hesitating, "I'm kind of staying over at the Lopezes…"

"I don't understand, dear. Why?" her other father, Leroy, asks.

"Uh, because Santana and Suzie are there," Rachel says.

Hiram says, "Ugh, it's like you're joined at the hip or something. It's so tacky, dear. This lesbian urge to merge. Can't you just leave her for the day? I'm sure she'll survive without you for at least a day."

"_Her _name," Rachel says, evenly, gritting her teeth, " Dad, is _Santana._S-A-N-T-A-N-A. Santana. I have been in a relationship with her for five years, two of which I've spent living with her in Brooklyn."

"Not this again," Hiram says, rolling her eyes.

"Yes, this again, dad," Rachel says. "You just _refuse _to even acknowledge she exists in my life. That we are in a relationship. That I am _gay_."

"Oh, we're okay with you being gay," Leroy says.

"We just wished you didn't turn out to be so…uh…" Hiram says, pauses, then says, "_Gay_."

Rachel stares at her father. "I don't even know what that _means_."

"We just think she's not right for you, dear," Leroy says.

"Yes, she's not… _Jewish_," Hiram points out. "She makes you celebrate _Christmas_!"

"Yes, she doesn't like Barbara Streisand," Leroy adds.

"She makes you listen to all that horrid hippity hoppity music," Hiram says with a shudder.

"Hip-hop, dad, hip-hop," Rachel corrects her dad.

"She made you eat _meat_," Leroy adds, with a shudder.

"She has a _daughter_," Hiram says.

"Who's not even _yours_," Leroy points out.

"And the Lopezes, ugh," Hiram says, making a disgusted face. "They go around thinking they're better than anyone just because Dr. Lopez went to Africa and worked there or something."

Rachel is silent for a few moments, this slow, silent anger slowly building up inside of her. She says, "But you were okay with Finn."

"Oh, we weren't," Hiram says. "He was all wrong for you, too."

"So uncoordinated."

"So untalented."

"Always looked constipated."

"In fact, it would seem that was the only feeling he _could_ convey."

"Had the vocabulary of a five year old. Didn't you tell us once that he didn't know what _'chivalrous'_ meant?"

"Didn't you tell us he actually _believed_ he got a girl pregnant in a _hot tub_?"

"Yes, he always struck me as someone with a two-digit I.Q actually. Not too bright that one."

"We didn't want slow grandkids."

"And he's not…uh…Jewish."

"And a bit homophobic, too."

"That was why when the Hudson-Hummels came to us with a scheme to break your wedding up, we jumped at the chance," Leroy explains. "I mean lovely people, the Hudson-Hummels…"

"Lovely people," Hiram echoes.

"But Burt Hummel owned a _garage_," Leroy says.

"His wife is…uh…for lack of a better word…" Hiram says, "_Tacky. _I'm sorry, it's true. She wears jean jackets!"

"And Kurt, ugh," Leroy says. "One word. _Makeover._"

"And Finn. Finn was a talentless hack with no future. We had a feeling he would probably just be holding you back. And we were right. He's a high school teacher now, isn't he? You would have ended up a high school teacher's _wife._ He's like the second coming of that teacher you loathed, Will Schuester."

"I don't _loathe_ Mr. Schuester," Rachel says.

"Oh, dear, remember when you used to come home and complain about how Mr. Schuester gave that solo to that Chinese girl?" Leroy asks. "You were so upset that time."

"Tina. And she's not Chinese, she's _Korean_," Rachel corrects him. "_Mike_ is Chinese. And Hispanic."

"Chinese, Korean, whatever, they all look the same to us," Leroy says.

"To-_mei_-to, to-_MAH_-to, same difference, dear," Hiram says.

"And remember when you used to complain about that black girl who was such a diva, and Kurt, too?" Leroy asks. "And that Latina as well? She used to fight for the solos meant for you, as well, didn't she?"

"That was Santana, dad," Rachel says.

"See?" Hiram says. "We don't understand why you would now be dating the same girl you used to fight for the solos with in _high school_."

"And don't get us started on your ex-husband," Leroy says.

"He-who-must-not-be-named," Hiram adds.

"Who, despite our objections," Leroy says, "You _insisted_ on marrying anyway."

"And who divorced you afterwards."

"Face it dear, you never did have the best taste in partners. We kind of wish you would set your standards higher," Leroy says now. "We don't want you getting hurt."

Rachel suddenly drops her fork on the table, grabs the napkin on her lap and throws it on the table, pushes her chair back and announces, through the seething anger and sadness and disappointment in her being, and announces, "I'm leaving."

"Whatever for?" the Berrys ask in unison.

"If you can't accept me and Santana and our relationship then you won't see me ever again. Goodbye."

As Rachel stomps towards the door, opening and slamming the door behind her with as much force as her small frame can muster, she suddenly realizes which people Santana did not want to know about their engagement. For the first time, Rachel feels a mixture of anger and shame at her parents.

When, after coming home that night, Rachel breaks down and sobs in the privacy of their bedroom, and Santana asks her over and over again, "What's wrong?" she only shakes her head and sobs into Santana's shoulder. Santana holds her tenderly when she realizes no answer is forthcoming and she holds Rachel until the sobs die down, until she calms down, and falls asleep in Santana's arms…

* * *

She thinks nothing else can ruin the holidays for her. But then came Christmas Eve…

* * *

The dinner had been going great, with everyone hugging and kissing each other on the cheek whilst saying "_Feliz Navidad_" to each other. In attendance are Dr. Lopez, Mrs. Lopez, Santana and Carlos's Abuela, Santana, Rachel, Suzie, Carlos, Carlitos, Max and _Tia_ Evita. Dr. Lopez had been doing a spot-on impersonation of Steve Martin as the Inspector in "Pink Panther", then moving on to German impersonations. Mrs. Lopez shakes her head in embarrassment, and the rest of the people, except for Santana's grandmother, Mrs. Hecht, laugh at Dr. Lopez's impersonations. Mrs. Hecht squirms in quiet discomfort as everyone enjoys the dinner of_ jamon, _and a few other dishes, a couple of vegetarian dishes which Mrs. Lopez and _Tia_ Evita learned to cook for Rachel.

They also enjoy listening to Santana's aunt, _Tia_ Evita, who, in her strong and charming accent, declares how boring American holidays are and proceeds to describe Hispanic festivals. "You Americans, you don't know fun. We, on the other hand, _do_."

Then to Suzie and Carlito's delight and the fascination of the rest of the adults present, she recounts the La Tomatina festival in great detail. "Eet ees this festival that happens in a little Valencian town in Buñol. At the _Plaza del Pueblo_, there ees game called _Palo Jabón, _and you climb the greasy pole with _jamon_ on top, and when somebody gets the _jamon_, the festival starts. _Ay, dios mio_, truckload of tomatoes come and people just go crazy and throw tomatoes at everyone. Eet ees so much fun!"

"Yes, it's fun, Evita, but what if the tomato is still inside the can?" Dr. Lopez asks.

"_Ay_, you with your jokes. Eet ees real tomatoes, not canned tomatoes," Evita explains. "Oh, and this food is _muy delicioso_, but the food I try in my travels, ay, _dios mio_! I try maggot cheese, and squirrel dung, and horse milk and raw octopus tentacles, and raw beef and bird's nest soup and elephant dung coffee and beef testicles…."

"Elephant _dung_? Beef _testicles_? I think I just lost my appetite," Santana whispers, leaning over to Rachel, as she does so. Santana's right hand is entwined with Rachel's left hand under the table and right now, Santana's fingers are playing with the Claddagh ring on Rachel's ring finger.

Rachel grins, squeezing Santana's hand. "I think I may have, too."

"What are you two lovebirds talking about?" _Tia_ Evita asks now, addressing Rachel and Santana. "I ask you how is _Nueva_ York, Ney-Ney, you do not answer."

"Nothing, sorry," Santana says, squeezing Rachel's hand. Rachel squeezes her hand back.

"You make a cute couple," _Tia_ Evita says now. "You should just get married. Ney-Ney, I think you get a _mariachi_ and sing a _canción_ to her and then ask her to be your _esposa_ or something. In South America, we serenade our loved ones."

Santana smirks. "In South America you also torture people."

Tia Evita's smile disappears. "How dare you say that? Eet ees like you say we are Peruvians!"

The dinner continues, with much laughter and jokes shared, as people finish their dinners and wine for the adults and _café con leche_ for the children are served.

It started, innocently enough, with Suzie asking, in between eating dessert, a curious question: "Mom, how does the priest turn the wine into blood?"

"What?" Santana asks.

"The priest. How does he turn the wine into blood?" Suzie asks patiently. "When Abuela and Abuelo and I go to mass or _Misa De Gallo_, and the priest holds up the glass of wine and says, 'Take this and drink for this is my blood…do this in remembrance of me', and then he drinks it, did the wine turn to blood? Is it really Christ's blood? 'Cause that's just gross."

"Um…" Santana says, squirming, right hand playing with Rachel's left hand as her left hand plays with the stem of the wine glass, "Ask your _Abuela_."

Mrs. Lopez rolls her eyes, "It's not really blood, _mija_. It's meant to be symbolic."

"Oh," Suzie says, turning back to her spaghetti. After a silence, "Then how about the _Virgencita?_"

"What about the _Virgencita?_" Santana asks, as she takes a sip of her wine.

"How can somebody who's never been with a man get pregnant?" Suzie asks now. "I mean I know about the birds and the bees and stuff, but I don't understand how the _Virgencita_ could have been pregnant if she'd never…you know…"

"Well, your moms kind of had you in that way, you know," Carlos, who is sitting across Santana, teases her. "Some would say it's a miracle."

Santana scowls at Carlos and kicks him under the table.

"Ow!" Carlos says.

"And why does God have a goat?" Suzie asks now. "What's it for?"

"A goat?" Santana asks puzzled. "Honey, I'm sorry, my memories of church are a bit hazy, but I'm pretty sure there was no goat."

"Yes there is," Suzie insists. "They say it all the time. They say, '_In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Goat'_."

"Uh, sweetie, I don't think that's a goat," Santana says. "I think that's 'ghost'. Tell her, _mami_."

Before Mrs. Lopez can answer, Santana's Abuela interrupts.

"Is this how you raise your child?" Santana's Abuela, who has been silent all this time, suddenly interrupts, asks Santana. "She is rude and she takes the name of _Papa Dios_ in vain." She then turns to the child and says, coldly, "You speak and act like a _jibara_ from the _barrio_. I think you will grow up to be with _gente mala_. But you were raised by a _jamona_, who doesn't even go to church," and here she indicates Santana, "So what would I expect?"

Everyone grows quiet when she finishes the sentence. Nobody knows what to say. Rachel's Spanish is a bit vague but she knows enough to know Santana's Abuela had just said something that had clearly offended Santana and probably a few other people at the table, too.

Presently, Suzie speaks up, addresses Mrs. Lopez, "What does _jibara_ mean?"

Mrs. Lopez smiles, "Nothing, _mija_. Abuela's kidding. Finish your food so you can go watch TV."

"Okay," Suzie says.

"I wasn't," Santana's Abuela says now.

"Ay, _Mami_," _Tia_ Evita says now, "You're the one who speaks like a _jibara_ from the _barrio_. Eet ees _Noche Buena_, we enjoy this. She is good _señorita_, our Suzie, no? I go get more _café con leche_."

Out of the corner of her eye, Rachel can see Santana blush furiously. Her hand entwined in Rachel's starts to squeeze Rachel's hand, she starts to rock one knee, and from the subtle change in her breathing, Rachel knows Santana is furious.

Everyone grows quiet again.

"Genesis Chapter 19," Santana's Abuela says. "Sodom and Gomorrah was destroyed because…"

"Enough, _Mami,_" Mrs. Lopez says, quietly, as she interrupts Santana's Abuela.

"Your daughter and granddaughter will go to _infierno_, the Bible says…" Santana's Abuela continues, ignoring Mrs. Lopez.

"I said that is enough, _Mami!_" Mrs. Lopez all but shouts, interrupting Santana's Abuela and making everyone jump in shock and surprise at her voice, rarely raised, rarely angry, hands slapping the table, as she puts her fork down and looks at her mother. "I mean no disrespect, _Mami_, but this is still my house. And I will not tolerate this kind of talk in front of my daughter, her partner, my granddaughter and my niece. Now if you can't behave then I think you should just leave."

There is silence at the table again.

Suddenly Suzie says, "The Bible also says no haircuts, Abuela, but I guess we're skipping that one."

Before anyone can say anything, Suzie continues, "May I be excused?"

Mrs. Lopez and Santana nod as Suzie pushes her chair back from the table, picks up her plate, puts it on the sink and goes to the living room.

Nobody speaks for the rest of the meal.

* * *

The rest of their stay would have been uncomfortable, had not Santana's Abuela complained about how cold Lima is and has decided to go back to Florida. Everyone silently applauds this decision, and the old woman goes home, sans _Tia_ Evita, who says she wants to stay in Lima until New Year. The old woman scowls at _Tia_ Evita but acquiesces after. When she leaves, it feels like the whole Lopez household breathes a sigh of relief and everything goes back to normal after.

Suzie is silent, aloof, withdrawn, after the Christmas eve dinner, locks herself in the attic playing computer games or would only hang out with Max, who does not ask questions and just plays games with her. No amount of cajoling from her grandparents or parents will bring her to her old self again. Santana and Rachel try to talk to her, but it is no use. But when she hears that Santana's Abuela is leaving she goes back to her old self again and starts to tease Carlos again and join everyone in the living room.

So as it turns out the holidays are not completely ruined after all.

* * *

The days go by and Rachel goes around like Maya Angelou, like she has oil wells in her living room. Each time she looks at Santana, she is reminded of the fact that Santana is her fiancée and that she will marry her soon and she will finally be her _wife_, and she gets to call Santana the same, too. The thought of it all fills her with such excitement sometimes that she cannot contain it.

Nights are spent cuddling and having long conversations on Santana's bed about how Santana's weeks at San Francisco had been, how Rachel and Suzie fared without her, how the Glee Club is, with Santana expressing approval at the set lists the kids had chosen, discussing the occasional political issue, the latest news, Santana's family, the inevitable wedding, possible dates, who to invite, where it would be held, the reception, the dresses, the _shoes_ and the _music_. They have not decided on the date yet, but they think they might aim for a spring wedding next year. In the darkness, Rachel can feel Santana rolling her eyes when she says they should probably start story boarding and planning the wedding as early as now, but then Santana gathers her in her arms and kisses her and Rachel feels everything is going to be alright. Once, during one of these nights, she finally brings up the abridged version of the dinner she had with her fathers, and Santana holds her tight, not saying anything, as she recounts what her fathers had said. Santana is understanding and quiet and Rachel is thankful for that. They talk about Santana's Abuela, and this segues into how Santana came out those many years ago, and though it does make Santana a bit angry just recalling it, there is quiet acceptance there, knowing that they cannot make everyone accept them and their relationship. One of the things that Rachel has missed when Santana was away is the conversation, just being able to talk to her. And though Santana might smirk or roll her eyes or say something snarky sometimes, the fact of the matter is Santana has inadvertently become her confidante, her best _friend_, and it is one of the things she loves the most about their relationship.

These conversations would almost always end in long, hot make-out sessions that do not really bear fruition, however, mostly because they keep getting interrupted by someone needing the toilet because the one down the hallway, or downstairs, is occupied, or, as in Carlos' case, because he just wants to bother them. During one of these annoying interruptions, Santana once hissed to Rachel, "That's it, baby, next time no more being away from you for weeks at a time. I miss you too much."

Rachel laughs and holds her tight and kisses her. "Was it me you missed or just the sex?" she teasingly whispers to Santana.

Santana laughs. Her left arm cradles Rachel's head, as she lies on her side, face inches from Rachel, her other arm around Rachel, as she half-hovers over her, alternately kissing and nuzzling her and rubbing Rachel's cheeks with her nose. "Both," she breathes as she kisses Rachel again, hand automatically going to Rachel's stomach, beneath her pajama top, tracing lazy circles around her navel, before it crawls up to Rachel's chest, where the lack of a bra is met with approval and much enthusiasm. They continue to kiss until a knock outside interrupts them.

* * *

A call from Quinn, just before New Year's Eve, to meet at "Q's" reveals, after the two women arrive, that Sam and Quinn had already figured out about the engagement and have thus closed the restaurant for the night and declared an engagement party. Merlott is on hand to make sure everyone drinks responsibly. He waves from the bar counter. They wave back. Rachel blushes, embarrassed, remembering her antics from last time.

"We figured that would be the only reason you would be taking such a long time in the basement," Sam says, smirking. "Plus, all those songs? Probably definitely put you in the mood."

Santana rolls her eyes as they settle into the same table where Rachel, Quinn and Sam had sat during that drunken anniversary party they had for Rachel. Santana automatically puts her right arm around Rachel.

"We invited Kurt, too, but we told him the party was at 'Scandals'," Sam says.

"Sam!" Rachel says, shocked. "You are a bad, bad man!"

"Sorry," Sam says. "Shall I call him?"

"No, he'll be too pissed to enjoy himself and then we'll all be miserable," Rachel says. "Just tell him the party was cancelled or something."

"You haven't told Kurt?" Santana asks.

"Errr, not unless really necessary," Rachel says, smiling.

Santana nods. "Okay. Good idea. I'll enjoy this while I still can. Until he decides to camp out at home planning the wedding for us."

Rachel laughs.

The party is quiet, subdued, the four of them celebrating Santana and Rachel's engagement with wine and conversation.

Quinn has hidden the microphone and any karaoke paraphernalia, so the sound system only plays songs and nothing else. Merlott has been instructed to keep Sam away from anything that will induce him to sing for the night, but that does not stop Sam singing along to any and every song playing on the stereo.

Santana declares that nobody will get wasted tonight to Sam's comment, "Santana as the voice of reason. It's the end of the world!" so there is only light drinking and much discussion and reminiscing. Mostly the night is spent arguing with Sam about the details of the wedding.

"No, Sam, for the last time, I do _not_ want my wedding ceremony in Klingon. Or Navi," Rachel says, tipsily. "And no, I do _not_ want to go to the San Diego Comic Con for my honeymoon! And I don't want pigeons! Or fireworks!"

"Aaaw, that would have been so cool!" Sam says, dejected and disappointed. "Well, at least make me best man! Dibs on the best man! Unless you want Finn?"

"No!" all three women say at the same time.

"Or Puck?"

"No!" the three women say again.

"Then that's settled, I get to be best man," Sam says proudly, "I still think it would be cool if you had your wedding in Klingon though."

"Sam, when you have your own wedding, _if_ you ever get married, you can go to town with everything. You can have your bride in a golden bikini and you can wear Darth Vader's costume and the ceremony will be in Elven or whatever, you have my blessings, I won't get in the way, but in the meantime, this is my wedding, so hands _off_," Rachel says, smiling.

"Okay," Sam says. "But you're missing out on a lot!"

Rachel laughs. It is a nice, quiet engagement party. Rachel thinks it is one of the best parties she has ever been to.

* * *

New Year's at the Lopezes is a bit quieter than Noche Buena, but never boring. Though there is a gathering snowstorm outside and the temperature has dropped to unimaginable levels, with thick snowfall falling outside their window, and strong winds, the atmosphere inside the house is one of revelry and much laughter. By special request from Carlitos, they have _jamon, _again, and_ lechon_, and again, some vegetarian dishes for Rachel's benefit.

The dinner is alive with Dr. Lopez's trademark impersonations, whilst _Tia_ Evita regales them about the Oktoberfest she once went to in Munich, Germany and the Songkran Festival in Thailand.

In the middle of dinner, Dr. Lopez says, "I'd like to propose a toast! To my wonderful wife, with whom I celebrate yet another glorious new year with. Tomy son Carlos, who, though already a grown man, chooses to be with us. To Carlitos and Suzie, who continue to make us proud. To Santana, my _unica hija_, and Rachel I adore you both. To Max, stop staring at Rachel, she's taken…"

As everyone makes a toast, _Tia_ Evita suddenly says, winking at Max, "I am with a woman once before."

As everyone listens while eating their food or passing food to other people, she says, "But, it is not meant to be. All she wants is talk about her feelings. Then my feelings. Then her feelings about my feelings. And vice versa. It is exhausting. She always humps the gun. All I want to do is make love."

There is a pause in the smaller conversations, and a silence, before Mrs. Lopez says, "Evita! The children!"

"Gross, that's just wanky," Santana mutters.

"I think my brain kind of stopped at she was with a woman before," Rachel mumbles.

"Yay! Best New Year's eve _ever_!" Carlos says.

"Excuse me, while I throw my nose up and laugh, 'French-like'," Dr. Lopez says in a fake French accent before he throws back his head and roars with laughter.

"Scarred. For. Life. Ewww," Suzie says.

"More _jamon_ please!" Carlitos says, oblivious.

Thankfully, the dinner continues with less traumatic conversation from the adults, mostly led by Dr. Lopez, who is telling Rachel why he and Santana are not allowed in the kitchen.

"What? Everyone in this family knows my only job here is to look hot," Santana says, as she takes a sip of her drink.

"Well, the Lopez women don't want _me_ in the kitchen, because they don't like my quite effective way of cooking spaghetti," Dr. Lopez says. "How do you know when the spaghetti is done?"

Rachel shakes her head.

"You throw the spaghetti against the wall!" Dr. Lopez says, triumphantly. "If the spaghetti sticks, it's done! If it doesn't stick and falls down, it's not! If it crawls up, then that's another problem!"

"Unfortunately also the same rule he applies to his underwear and socks," Mrs. Lopez says.

Santana grimaces. "Eeewww."

Rachel knits her eyebrows. "I don't understand. Do you throw the whole pot of spaghetti on the wall? Or just a strand? Or do you keep throwing spaghetti on the wall til you know when it's done? 'Cause I think that's a whole lot more trouble than it's worth."

Thankfully, the dinner ends and the dishes are put away. In the middle of dinner, the snow storm grows in strength, and outside the window inches of snow have piled up on the yard and around the house. Then the power failure comes. So after greeting each other a happy new year, the family decides to call it a night.

The house is dark save for the candles and flashlights that throw shadows on the wall, but Suzie insists on sleeping in the attic still even as Carlitos insists on sleeping beside his father ("You big baby!" Suzie teases.). She is only allowed to sleep in the attic if she makes sure the candles are put out. So Suzie's parents accompany her to the attic with candles and a flashlight in tow and they help her settle for bed.

As she prepares to sleep, Suzie says, "Mom?"

Santana asks, "Yes?"

"Do you think…" Suzie hesitates, "Do you think your Abuela will one day come around and be okay with us?"

Santana hesitates, leans over, and says, "I don't know honey, maybe. Some day."

Suzie nods.

"She hates me doesn't she?" Suzie suddenly asks. "I mean, she's ashamed of me? Of you?"

"Honey, no," Santana says, gently. "She's just…old…and she doesn't understand…and she grew up in a time where people like your mother and I…weren't exactly… out there…but the world's kind of changed…and it's hard for her to accept that."

Suzie thinks about this and nods again. "Do you hate Abuela?"

Santana stops, thinks about this and says, "No. Maybe I used to. But…you can't change people. The best you can do is hope for the best. And accept that there are things you can't change."

Suzie thinks about this and smiles. "Okay, mom. Thanks. Good night."

"You sure you'll be okay here?" Rachel says. "You can sleep with us if you want."

"Naaw, I'm twelve, _Mee_, I can deal," Suzie says, "I'm not Carlitos."

Rachel laughs. "That's my girl. But if you change your mind, just come down and knock on our door, okay?"

"Okay, Mom, Mee. Night."

* * *

As Rachel comes out of the bathroom, after finishing her long beauty regimen, she is surprised to see their room bathed in soft light from candles lit and put in different parts of the room. She can see Santana lighting the last candle.

"Honey, what's this?" Rachel says, smiling as she approaches Santana.

Santana grins. "Getting you in the mood."

"Shouldn't there be some Barry White music playing?" Rachel asks, smiling back.

Santana laughs. "Sorry, we don't have that for tonight. But you have me, though."

Rachel smiles as she takes a step forward and steps into Santana's arms. They hold each other in the middle of Santana's room, not speaking, just savoring the warmth, the moment, before Santana whispers, "Happy New Year."

Rachel holds her tighter. "Happy New Year to you, too."

"I love you," Santana says now.

Rachel smiles into Santana's chest. "I love you, too," she says, softly now.

They are silent for a time before Santana speaks. "Are you okay, baby? Are you happy? I know you kind of seem unhappy, especially after you had that dinner with your dads, but…"

Rachel looks up, smiles and says, "I _am_. Thank you. This is probably the best holiday _ever_."

Santana laughs softly. "What, even with my Abuela and _Tia_ Evita and my mom and dad and everyone else embarrassing us and stuff?"

Rachel laughs. "I adore your family. They're cute."

Santana smiles. "Good. Because you're officially going to be a part of it soon."

Rachel smiles back. "Yes. I know. Scary."

Santana laughs. "Yeah. You're going to be my _wife_, soon. You're going to be, like, _Mrs._ Lopez or something."

"Wow. Yes. I hadn't thought of that," Rachel teases her as she reaches up behind Santana's neck to pull her down in a kiss. "_Really_ scary."

Santana kisses her back, her lips and tongue gliding in between Rachel's lips. "Yeah, scary. So, how about it, _future _wife, shall we get this party started? I have the door locked and a 'do not disturb sign' outside, so I'm good to go," she says, as her lips brush Rachel's throat, neck, and linger on a spot between her chest, inhaling Rachel's scent.

Rachel laughs softly, feels tingles where Santana has kissed her, as she says, "Sounds like a plan."

Santana half-lifts her, half-leads her to the bed. As they get into the covers, Santana lies on top of Rachel, breaks away from their kisses to tenderly look at her, then starts to remove Rachel's pajama top, hands warm and soft and careful, as if she is uncovering a carefully wrapped Christmas present, a present she has been waiting to open for a long time. Her lips kiss a path down Rachel's jaw, throat, chest, hands caressing the curve of smooth, soft skin there, before Santana's lips gather the swell of skin with her lips, tongue tenderly teasing and stroking and warm against her skin, eliciting a soft moan from Rachel. Rachel's body warms up to Santana's touch, Santana's lips, feels her body churn with longing as she turns to look at Santana's dark eyes, now filled with such love, such open desire for her. Rachel moves to kiss Santana's throat as Santana's thigh drops between Rachel's thighs and they start to move into each other, Santana gently pushing herself deeper into her, Rachel pulling Santana closer to her. Rachel wraps her left arm around Santana's slim waist, lets her right hand roam around Santana's chest, to the gentle swell of breasts under her shirt. Santana moans and moves to kiss her again as hands snake into the waist band of Rachel's pajamas, gently pulls them down her thighs, her legs, as Rachel moves to take off Santana's shirt and pants. Rachel feels Santana's skin against her, warm, smooth, soothing. Home. This is home, she thinks. As Santana's hand finds its way down between Rachel's legs, slides in deep, deep, deep into Rachel's being, Rachel begins to feel a growing ache, a yearning so profound, so incredible that she feels like she will explode, shatter into tiny fragments. But Santana holds her, never lets her go, goes deeper into her, into that place only Santana can touch, touches that thing in the very center of her being, and the world, the darkness, the silence, everything just seems to fall away and all Rachel wants, as she comes undone in her arms, is for Santana to slide so deep inside of her she becomes a part of her forever.

They make love all through the night as snowflakes drift and swirl around outside their window with the silence and the darkness, and everyone else in the house sleep the fitful sleep of contentment and bliss.

* * *

_**Author's end notes:**_

_**That's it for this chapter! Hope you guys enjoyed it! Many thanks for reading and reviewing this chapter. Special thanks to all the readers for your continued support and commitment to this story. Sleep-deprived and overworked, so your encouraging comments power me through. This Pezberry universe kind of expanded itself without my knowing it and I thank you for your patience. Also, many thanks to the new readers who've power read through this story!**_

_**Also, no offense meant to **__**Peruvians,**_Christians, religions, etc. I think we all had those questions when we were young. I know I did. And so did my beta! Especially about church! :)

_**Special thanks to my equally overworked, sleep-deprived beta DragonsWillFly for power-reading through the many, many drafts of each chapter I write. It ain't a walk in the park, but you make it seem easy! :)**_

_**To SoFlaComet – Re: The story shows how hard it is to stay together- yes, that was one of the things I wanted to illustrate with this. Thanks for reading and reviewing.**_

_**To kutee – RE: Going to live – Glad you are going to live! Hope you are still alive after this chapter! Re: Rachel and Santana talking – yes, wanted to tie up some loose ends, Re: Drunken Rachel went on and on about musicals – Yes, because drunken Rachel is always fun! RE: How about Santana never really was with that many guy back in high school – yes, I kind of think of Santana as that kind of person.**_**:) _I like to think it was mostly Brittany. _:)**_** RE: Dr. JLO – glad you liked Dr. JLo! Thanks for reading and reviewing!**_

_**To l0vesparks007 and CarolineSC – Thanks for reading and reviewing!**_

_**To sammywammy1120 – Re: Santan's proposal, Poor girls been waiting forever – yes, that she has, that she has! Thanks for reading and reviewing!**_

_**To dayabieberxo – Re: I hope she says yes! – Hope this chapter answers that! RE: sneaky, inappropriate, adorable Suzie – Yes, we do love our Suzie! ;) Thanks for reading and reviewing!**_

_**To amazinglife18 – Re: "The talk", the proposal – yes, that is true. RE: Adorable performance of Susie – yes it was, wasn't it? Re: Santana's papi (aka:Dr. ) is awesome,i loved him,he's such a goof! –Glad you love him! I wanted a fun, normal father, since the TV show kind of…didn't really show that so much. :) I know everyone loves Burt, but still... Thanks for reading and reviewing!**_

_**To VickiiMadd – Have you come back to life yet? Or are you still in heaven eating? Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thanks for reading and reviewing!**_

_**To parker88 RE: I wonder what her answer will be, last chapter a dream sequence – No, not a dream sequence. Not that cruel. :) Hope this chapter answers all that! :) Re: Dr. JLo...hilarious – Thanks! Wanted a fun dad! :) RE: Interaction between Rachel and Santana – yes, because some couple time was in order! :) Glad you are loving this story. Thanks for reading and reviewing!:-)**_

_**To MelovePezberry RE: Santana's Father – hahah! Well, here he is now! ;) Glad you like him! Re: So Happy that They talked – Glad it made you happy. Re: Love Suzie's song – yes, she is adorable, isn't she? Re: Sam – hahha! Well, I don't know what's going to happen to him. :) Thanks for reading and reviewing!**_

_**Featured songs for this chapter:**_

_**"Bullets with Butterfly Wings" by Smashing Pumpkins**_

_**"Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen**_


	21. Back to School

**_Author's note: Team Pezberry! Chapter 21 is up! Happy reading! Hope you like!_**

* * *

A day after New Year's Day, Santana, Rachel and Suzie find themselves on the next train back to New York to the protests of the Lopez family who had wanted them to stay a bit longer. But Santana and Rachel have to go back to work and the apartment and the life they have in New York as well. Only when Santana and Rachel promise to come visit with Suzie more often, as well as promise to inform them about the details of their wedding, do the Lopez family agree to let them go. Crestfallen Lopezes, along with Sam and Quinn, see them off at the train station one frosty morning with tight hugs and instructions to stay warm, stay healthy and not work too hard. Specific instructions were given to Suzie to be a good girl and not give her moms and the kids at school a hard time.

Hours later, the family arrives at their apartment at Greenburg Hill Gardens. Home, Rachel thinks as she drops the key on the bowl they have near the front door and watches as Suzie makes a beeline for her room where she will probably be announcing to Kate and her other friends that she has arrived. Kate had called her earlier announcing that not only is she not transferring to California after all but she has actually just arrived from California as well and so Suzie is doubly happy. Santana smiles at Rachel and moves to help with the luggage.

"Home sweet home," Santana says, grinning and kissing Rachel. "Where the toilets work and you don't have to share it with anyone and there's no coitus interruptus!" she says.

Rachel laughs, as they both make their way to their bedroom.

"What do you say? Want to fool around a bit?" Santana says, wriggling her eyebrows, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Get some late afternoon delight? If you catch my drift…"

"Honey, I _always_ catch your drift," Rachel responds, teasingly, grinning and rolling her eyes.

Santana grins back as she unlocks their door.

* * *

Later, whilst lying on their bed cuddling, Santana's arm around Rachel as she kisses Rachel, both naked except for a blanket, Rachel pushes Santana over so Santana is lying on her back and Rachel is on top of her. Rachel is straddling her, legs either side of Santana as Santana looks at her now, one eyebrow cocked in a challenge, a grin on her face. Rachel grins back as she leans over to kiss Santana. Santana's hand comes up to Rachel's neck, thumb on her jaw as she kisses her. Rachel starts kissing Santana from her throat to her chest to her stomach and her lips come back to Santana's chest, lips lingering on the graceful curve of Santana's breasts. Santana arches her back, closes her eyes, and moans, but then they hear the doorbell. Santana makes an annoyed, strangled noise.

Rachel's head comes up, eyebrows knitted in equal annoyance.

"Who in hell is that?" Santana hisses.

Rachel shakes her head, shrugs her shoulders.

"Maybe if we ignore it, it will go away. Come here, gorgeous," Santana breathes, smiling as she lifts her head to kiss Rachel.

Rachel grins as she kisses her back. "_You're_ gorgeous," she says into the kiss.

As they kiss some more, the doorbell rings again, a few more times, more insistently this time.

Santana breaks away from the kiss, more annoyed this time. "Seriously?"

When the ringing continues, they both finally reluctantly get up. Santana puts on her robe, irritated and impatient.

"I _cannot_ catch a break," Santana mutters, infuriated.

Rachel smiles, amused, as she puts on her own robe. "Aaw, honey, don't worry, I'll make it up to you later."

Santana grins as they both come out of their room and down the stairs and Rachel opens the front door to see Kurt standing there, in a leopard outfit, with matching fur cap, boots, coat and large leopard print bag that, from the looks of it, seems to have a lot of contents.

Kurt steps in, shivering and, facing Rachel, who is closing the door behind him, says, irritated, "I cannot _believe_ I am the last in all of Ohio to know about your engagement!"

Santana crosses her arm in front of her and says, annoyed, "Hello, Kurt. Come in. Invade our private space. It's not like we have a life and were probably having amazing sex which you so rudely interrupted."

"Gross, Santana," Kurt says, making a face.

"Hell hath no fury than a woman unfulfilled," Santana states.

"It's fine, we were done," Rachel interrupts, giving Kurt a quick smile.

"No, we weren't," Santana says pointedly.

"Double gross," Kurt comments, making a face. "I tried calling you but you weren't answering so…"

"So the logical thing to do was to come over _here_ instead?" Santana interrupts testily.

Before Kurt can answer, Santana looks him up and down and makes a face and says, "And, _Shania Twain,_ what is that god-awful outfit you are wearing? The 90s called, they want your outfit back. I think you singlehandedly just caused the mass extinction of all the leopards in the world! If the leopards go extinct, I'm blaming you!"

Before Kurt could respond, Santana says, "Love that thing on your chest by the way. It looks like it's been pinned there against its will."

"It's called a brooch, Santana."

"Yeah, Kurt, keep telling yourself that. Whatever makes you sleep at night."

"Go…take a long walk on a short pier."

"Oooh, that the best you got?" Santana says now, brows furrowed, approaching Kurt in a mock menacing way. Kurt steps back, a bit afraid.

"Honey…" Rachel says softly to Santana, shaking her head.

"Fine. I'm going to make some coffee," Santana says.

Rachel smiles at Santana's retreating back as Santana heads to the kitchen while she leads the way to the living room.

"I can't _believe_ you're marrying her!" Kurt mumbles as he follows her to the living room.

Rachel rolls her eyes.

As Kurt takes a seat on the couch, he says, "And I cannot _believe_ you made _Sam_ the best man! Over _me!_"

"I'm sorry," Rachel says apologetically. "He kind of called dibs on the best man."

Kurt stares at her, in disbelief. "Is he _twelve?!_"

"Sorry," Rachel mumbles.

Santana comes in now and sits beside Rachel, crossing one leg over the other, exposing a tanned, sexy thigh for Rachel to see. She leans back and puts an arm around Rachel, rubbing Rachel's shoulder with her hand.

"Hey, Kurt, love your hair," Santana says.

"Why thank you, Santana," Kurt says, preening. "Never thought you were capable of compliments…"

"Yeah, it's so big. _Huge._ How do you do that?" Santana says now, with a smirk. "Is that where you keep all your fashion secrets?"

Kurt glares at Santana as Santana's grin widens. He pauses, seeming to debate whether to answer with a retort of his own, but he seems to have decided against it and is about to say something, when Santana interrupts again and asks, "Are you still getting paid to give hideous fashion advice for that talk show you do on television? ' Cause I still think that's not a _real_ job."

Kurt gives Santana a dirty look and says, "Not everyone can be a hotshot lawyer like you, Santana."

Santana smirks in response.

"I'll have you know, though, that I've been invited to audition for that popular hit TV musical, 'True Delights'," Kurt announces. "I'll be auditioning to play one of the witches who terrorize the vampires and werewolves. For my audition I'm going to sing, 'Defying Gravity'."

Santana raises an eyebrow. "Not that I care or anything but…aren't you a little too old to be playing a high school _bitch_?"

"_Witch_, Santana, witch," Kurt corrects her, annoyed. "And I'm not playing a teenager, I'm playing a two hundred year old witch."

"Good," Santana says, "Because at your advanced age, I think it's going to be hard to pull off playing a teenager. I think playing a two hundred year old bitch is just right up your alley. You remind me of Norma Desmond. You've got wattles. On your neck."

Kurt glowers at Santana as she laughs. Kurt turns to Rachel for support, but she is silent. When Kurt realizes Rachel is distracted and does not seem at all interested in their conversation, and is mostly staring at Santana's legs, Kurt stares at Rachel in disbelief and snaps his fingers. "Rachel. Rachel! Stop staring at Santana's thigh. Can we focus here a bit," he says. "Ugh. Lesbians."

"Sorry," Rachel says guiltily, tearing her gaze away from Santana's thigh and focusing on Kurt instead. "And no, you don't have wattles, Kurt. San, stop making fun of Kurt. Honestly, it's like being with two kids!"

"Sorry, babe," Santana says, squeezing her shoulder. "Your best gay is auditioning for 'True Delights' by the way," she announces.

Rachel squeals. "Really?! That's fantastic! Who do you get to play? A vampire? A werewolf? A fairy?"

"A fairy! Classic!" Santana says as she throws back her head and roars with laughter.

Kurt scowls at Santana. "Don't change the subject," Kurt says to Rachel now. He whines, "You _promised_ I'd be best man".

"Are you _twelve_?" Santana snarks back, rolling her eyes.

"Well, you were already best man the first time, Kurt," Rachel points out, with an apologetic look on her face. "And he's kind of Santana's friend, and for some strange reason he's always _around_."

"Sort of like you, sometimes," Santana quips. "And technically you can't really be best man, didn't you always insist on joining us girls every time Mr. Schuester split us up for his insane mash-offs?"

Rachel puts a hand on Santana's thigh, looks at her and says, "Honey, no."

Santana rolls her eyes and scowls.

"Why are you still here? Don't you have some clients to terrorize?" Kurt asks Santana now, raising an eyebrow.

"Sorry, I'm here to make sure you don't turn my wedding into some nightmare show," Santana says with a smirk.

Kurt ignores this and instead turns up his nose haughtily. "And I hate Sam by the way. He _told_ me the party was at Scandals! Ugh. Such an asshole!" he continues, huffing. "Can you imagine being the only single gay man in a sea full of gay men?!"

"Seeing as we're lesbians, I'd like to go with _'no'_," Santana sneers as she snickers. "Although a million gay jokes just popped into my head. Have you heard of this one? 'How many gay men does it take to change a light bulb'?"

"Oh, I haven't heard of that one," Kurt retorts sarcastically. "Have you heard of this one? 'How many lesbians does it take to change a light bulb'?"

"Ha! None!" Santana responds triumphantly. "We don't have to. We just stare them down until they screw themselves into place."

Rachel sighs as she looks from Santana to Kurt and back, all the while shaking her head and rolling her eyes. "Guys, stop it. I'm sure Sam is sorry about that now. And I'm pretty sure you managed to have fun without us there."

"Well, I actually _did_ meet some guy…"

Rachel leans over and all but squeals and she asks, in quick succession, "Really? Oooh, what's his name? How old? Is he cute? What's he like? Did you guys hook up?"

Santana rolls her eyes. "Ugh. You guys are such _girls_. I'm going to go get something to eat while you guys talk about _boys_."

Santana stands up and moves to go to the kitchen as Rachel and Kurt talk about the guy Kurt has met at Scandals.

* * *

Later, over cups of coffee, tea and biscuits, Santana is all but throttling Kurt over the wedding discussions. Kurt has ended up inadvertently declaring himself the default wedding planner, seeing as the position of best man for their wedding has been filled up. His large leopard print bag has revealed binders divided by subject: one binder contains wedding dresses, another contains flowers, another contains dishes, and still another contains miscellaneous things Santana and Rachel have never even heard of. Santana looks overwhelmed and confused and annoyed all at the same time.

"For the last time, Kurt, no feather boas! Or disco balls!" Santana says now, visibly annoyed and exasperated. "And I don't want the guys in tight, tight briefs! This is just another excuse for you to hook up with guys!"

"I just think it would be nice…"

"No!" Santana says, firmly. "And no harnesses…"

"I thought you liked harnesses…"

Santana smirks. "Yes, I do. But if I told you which ones, you'd probably regret it."

"Gross."

"And I do not want some stupid motif that includes a bustier, hoop skirts and feathered hats!" Santana says.

"You were the one who wore fur caps to school like you just escaped some Russian gulag," Kurt says.

"You're the one wearing a complete leopard ensemble right now," Santana points out.

"You were the one who wore the whole 1990 L.L. Bean Fall Catalogue all of junior year in high school! And jumpsuits!" Kurt says haughtily.

"And what the hell are the chorus girls for?" Santana demands, irritated, "And for the last time I don't want red lace crinolines! And gold lamé Uggs!"

"I thought you liked short, short skirts?" Kurt asked, smirking.

"On _other_ girls," Santana says, then swiftly corrects herself when she finds Rachel staring at her, "On _Rachel_, anyway. Or when it's _appropriate_. Preferably with some oil of some kind involved. But I'm not wearing that to my wedding! It's highly inappropriate."

Rachel puts a hand on her forehead. She can sense a headache coming on. "Guys, _please_."

Presently, Suzie comes in, excited, and announces, "Mom, Mee, Kate wants to come over. Can Kate come over? Please, please, please?"

Then Suzie spies Kurt and says, "Hey, Uncle Kurt. Happy New Year. Nice brooch. It looks scared. Is that where you hang your keys?"

Santana tries not to laugh as Kurt tries not to look offended.

"Kurt says hi by the way," Suzie says offhandedly as she looks to Santana, eyebrows raised in question.

Santana rolls her eyes even as she tries not to snicker. She looks to Rachel, who nods her head. Santana says, "Okay, but you guys can't stay up late or have a sleepover. It's a school night."

"Cool! Thanks, Mom!" Suzie squeals in delight and leaves the room in a rush.

"Oh my god, this is like a hotbed of lesbian activity or something," Kurt observes, watching Suzie's retreating back.

"What, and your apartment is not a place of twenty-four seven orgies?" Santana retorts, raising an eyebrow, a knowing look on her face.

That shuts Kurt up even as he blushes.

"Kurt this is not some drag show musical production extravaganza with you as director," Santana says now sarcastically. "It's a wedding. It's Rachel and my wedding. I do not, I repeat, I do _not_, want it to look like a circus."

"Okay, fine," Kurt says, "But we're keeping the horse and the carriage."

"Ugh," Santana grunts in frustration and looks at Rachel. "Why can't we have normal guy friends like other people do?"

After much discussion and snarky back and forth between Kurt and Santana about Santana and Rachel's wedding plans, Rachel manages to have the two agree not to throttle each other. Rachel convinces Santana to just relax and leave the planning to her and Kurt, although they will make the final decisions about everything as a couple once Rachel and Kurt have a working wedding plan and budget estimates.

* * *

Everyone in the household still has a residual holiday fever when they all reluctantly go back to their normal routines: Rachel and Santana to work and Suzie back to school. However, for Suzie, the added appeal of having Kate back, and new school activities that include a school musical production of "The Little Prince" in which Kate is auditioning, makes it easier for Suzie to re-adjust to school life. The hustle and bustle of Santana's work does not leave room for her to breathe, but she does work out a schedule so she can make time for her family and Rachel finds that despite the stress of high school teaching, she has missed it.

* * *

When Rachel steps in to Taft High and narrowly misses a tussle between the security guards and some male students over some concealed weapons and weed in their knapsack, it takes Rachel a second to realize she has not missed this part of her work. This is reinforced by the fact that when Mr. Smith sees her the first thing he does is declare that he has missed her and would he like to go have a belated celebratory New Year's Eve dinner with him? "Sure," she tells him, sarcastically, "When hell freezes over." Principal Abrams is still going around belligerent and stressed and looks like he has not gone on vacation at all. Gloria's hormone replacement therapy has eased up her mood swings a bit, and, she declares, "I'm beginning to enjoy sex again. I hadn't realized how much fun sex can be when you don't have to worry about whether you've put in your diaphragm or took your pills or not. In fact, the number of children I have is directly proportional to how many times I forgot to wear my diaphragm." Rachel greets this information with a disgusted grimace during lunch time when they catch up at the cafeteria, but she grudgingly admits she has missed Gloria.

* * *

But the real surprise though is when she goes to her classes. When she sees Baz and the others in homeroom, she realizes that she has missed the class when they all grin and wave and take their seats and greet her a happy new year…

"Hiya, Miz B!"

"Happy New Year!"

"Long time no see!"

"_How are you all? I trust your holidays were awesome?"_

"Yeah!" "Cool!" "Awesome!"

"_Alright then, shall we start our discussion then? Has anyone finished reading 'Hunger Games' and 'The Color Purple'?"_

"Ugh, Miz B, 'Hunger Games' was boring!"

"_Boring? You guys _suggested_ it." _

"Well, whoever suggested that musta _not_ have his head screwed on right, because that story was boring!"

"Yeah! No action!"

"No explosions!"

"And that lead chick was _white_!"

"_You guys watched the movie, didn't you? You didn't read the book at all!"_

"Hee, sorry Miz B, we thought maybe it might be easier if we just watched the movie instead!"

"The book is better than the movie, y'all! And the main character, Katniss, is supposed to be African American or something!"

"Yeah, and…and… it talks about class issues, the gap between the rich and the poor_, _and how reality TV has objectified people, how real people have been turned into commodities, how suffering is seen as entertainment."

"_Impressive, McG, that's exactly what the author had intended with the story, actually. In fact, the novel is supposed to be a critique on class issues in America." _

"Thanks, Miz B."

"Wow, you got all that from reading the book?"

"Negro, yes."

"I be liking the mockingjay, y'all! That is awesome!"

"Ugh, I preferred 'The Color Purple'."

"That book has the L-Word!"

"Love?"

"No, Baz, the other L-Word!"

"_Lovers?_"

"_Lesbian_, Baz, lesbian!"

"Awww…damn! Just when I thought I got it right!"

"Baz, I thought your New Year's resolution was not to be as dumb as last year?"

"My New Year's resolution is _not_ to have any New Year's resolutions."

"I don't get it. By making a New Year's resolution to _not_ have a New Year's resolution, you actually did have a New Year's resolution."

"I'm confused."

"_Anyway, did you read it?"_

"I saw the movie."

"_Ah."_

"I liked this book!"

"She talks like me!"

"She looks like me!"

"It's set in Georgia! I'm from Georgia!"

"It doesn't have big words!"

"Whoopi is awesome!"

"No, Miz B is awesome!"

"_Flattery will only get you so far, Baz. But thank you."_

"Danny Glover is an ass!"

"It talks about jazz! And the blues! I love jazz and blues!"

"Did you know jazz comes from a West African word that means 'sperm'? And figuratively it means _life?_"

"Miz B, you okay? You lookin' kinda funny again…"

"_Thanks, I'm just overwhelmed and impressed Kareem would know what the word 'jazz' originally means."_

"Miz B! I know you can get _over_whelmed and you can get _under_whelmed…but can you just be…_whelmed?_"

"_Uh…I don't know, exactly._"

"_Anyway_, I like how it talks about black people!"

"I like the love scene!"

"Love scenes are awesome!"

"_Guys, can we please focus a bit…"_

"I love how it celebrates female friendships!"

"I love how it celebrates the power of storytelling! Of taking your life by the balls and making your own story!"

"Celie is awesome!"

"Naaww…Shug be awesome! Celie's a weak character!"

"_You forget this was set in the 1930s. African American women during this time were severely limited by the social restrictions of the time."_

"I don't know what that means, but yeah!"

"She's not really weak! Black women didn't have any rights then! They were poor, marginalized and abused! Violence against women was rampant!"

"Violins? Black people played violins that time? I don't understand."

"_Violence_, Baz. V-I-O-L-E-N-C-E. Not violins. Brother, do yourself a favor and get yourself neutered."

"_Anderson, what did we say about insulting people like that?"_

"Sorry, Miz B. Just sometimes, he so dumb."

"_Yes, but that doesn't give you the right to do that. Apologize to Baz now."_

"Miz B…"

"Apologize, _Anderson. _Or you go to detention."

"Aw, you in big trouble now, Anderson."

"Aaaww…Sorry, Baz..It's not your fault you so stupid."

"_Anderson!"_

"Sorry, Miz B. Sorry, Baz."

"_Yes, Kareem?"_

"Miz B, we want to try reading the classics!"

"_I thought you guys '_skeeved'_ the classics, because they had big words and they were written by white people. Your oppressors."_

"Well, we want to try anyway. We noticed the other classes were reading them. Some of us want to try to pass the SATs. Maybe get into college. You kinda made us think maybe we have a shot at that."

"Yeah, I think I be more confident now with my English grammar. I be telling the difference now between the active and inactive voice. Proper and improper nouns."

"_Baz, I think that's active and passive voice. Proper and common nouns. I think you may have to study harder."_

"Oh."

"Easy classics, please, Miz B. With no big words."

"And lesbian characters."

"_What? I think one book with gay characters is enough but I think I know just the right books for you."_

* * *

The first Glee Club practice at the auditorium after the holidays gives Rachel a headache. And not only because Ruth Goldman comes and meekly begs her to take her back, to which Rachel firmly says no, remembering that her mother, Mrs. Goldman had banned her from Glee Club. Ruth is persistent but Rachel is adamant and though she _does_ want Ruth to rejoin the club, she does not want to put the whole Glee Club, the Arts program and Principal Abrams in hot water because she had wanted Ruth to rejoin the club. Ruth hangs her head, looks down on the floor, dejected, before heading to one of the chairs and watches the practice sorrowfully. Rachel feels bad for her.

The headache also comes from the realization that whilst the kids _have_ made an effort to practice over the holidays, Rachel realizes, just from hearing the discordant voices that the individual practices have not been enough. She recognizes this when they go through the vocalizations and a rough rehearsal of all three songs.

Everyone waits with bated breath for her verdict on what she thinks of their singing. She is quiet as she puts her hands, clasped together, behind her, her thumb on her left hand playing with her engagement ring, and rocks on the balls of her feet.

Finally, after a few moments, she says, "That was terrible. _Terrible_. I seriously probably need to re-think those A's I promised to give you."

Everyone looks up at her when she says this, but she has a smile on her face.

"Good thing we still have a few weeks left to whip you guys into shape," she says, continuing to smile.

Everyone sighs as she says this.

"Sorry, Miz B," Baz says, "We kind of just got caught up with the holiday spirit is all."

Rachel raises her eyebrows, half-smiles, nods and says, "That's fine, Baz, but you still have to practice. We have a lot of catching up to do. And also, Baz, in the song 'Killing Me Softly', it's not…'strumming my _thang_ with his finger'…nor is it 'singing my life with his _bird_'...you _do_ know the lyrics, right?"

"Sorry, Miz B," Baz says again. "How do you kill someone softly with a song anyway?"

"Or strum your _thang_ with a finger?!"

"Oooh, a million dirty jokes just came to me."

"Don't go there."

"Better yet, how do you sing one's life with a _bird_?"

"In some cultures, _bird_ is a euphemism for a man's _penis_."

"Kareem! Thank you for that highly inappropriate information that we absolutely have no interest in whatsoever," Rachel says.

"You're welcome, Miz B."

"Also, Baz, in 'Redemption Song', it's '_emancipate_ yourself from mental slavery', not '_constipate_ yourself from mental slavery'," Rachel continues.

"I was wondering why that line didn't make sense!" Baz says, snapping his fingers.

"Oh-kay…And Baz, in the same song, it's 'How long shall they kill our prophets, while we stand aside and look'," Rachel says. "It's _not_, 'How long shall we keep our _profits_, while we _sodomize_ and look…'"

"Oh." Then as realization dawns on his face, he whips his head to Kareem and McG, who, up until then, had been trying to control their snickering, and he hits them both on the head. "You gave me the _wrong_ lyrics, didn't you?"

The two burst out laughing. "Sorry, Baz, couldn't resist!" McG says now, rubbing his head.

"This is almost as bad as that time you told me Romeo and Juliet live! And all the people in that Hamlet play live!" Baz says, "And I find out Romeo and Juliet _die!_ And everyone in Hamlet _dies!_"

The two continue laughing as Rachel blinks. "I don't know whether I should be shocked you know Shakespeare or that you actually _read_ them."

"Naw, Miz B, I saw the movies," Baz says. "The one with Leonardo Di Caprio and Claire Danes and that Mel Gibson one. I be wanting to watch that British dude's version of Hamlet, but it was too _long_. You told us to implode on our horizons."

"Baz, it's _expand_ your horizons, not _implode_," Rachel corrects him patiently.

"Oh, sorry, Miz B," Baz says, grinning. "English is _hard!_"

"Well, I guess at least you know Shakespeare?" Rachel says uncertainly.

"I mean Mel Gibson is _anti-semen_, but it be a pretty decent movie," Baz says.

"Anti-_semen_?!" Rachel says, grimacing. _Gross_, she thinks.

"Yeah, I think he hates Jews," Baz says. "Or is that _anti-semantic_?"

"Anti-_semitic_," McG says, "We've been through this, Baz."

"Oh, yeah. So, that was why when I be trying to explain it to my mom, she be looking at me kinda funny," Baz says.

"She probably almost had a heart attack from hearing her son not only attempting to say a big word, but also _Shakespeare_."

"Shut up."

"Well, I guess points for effort?" Rachel says, smiling at Baz. "Also, I'm a bit confused about the first part of 'Desert Rose', I can't decide whether you are yodeling or trying to strangle a cat in heat. Abdul, I think you have to teach your teammates Arabic."

"I _did_, Miz B," Abdul says, in his lightly accented English. "_This_ is the best I could do."

"Arabic is _hard!_"

"But apparently _English_ is harder!"

"Can Abdul sing it instead?"

After much discussion, they finally convince the normally shy Abdul to sing the Arabic parts alone while the rest sing the English parts.

"Also, may I remind everyone of their college application forms? And you are supposed to be preparing for your PSATs and SATs already," Rachel says. "Baz, where's your application form?"

"He ain't going nowhere, Miz B. He can barely survive high school!"

"That's enough. _Any_way," she says, interrupting this discussion before it starts of a chain reaction of more interesting discussions that will lead to absolutely zero practicing, "Have you decided on what choreography to do for the quarter-finals?"

"Yeah, Miz B!" the kids say in unison.

"Kung Fu!"

"Karate Kid!"

"Crouching Tiger, Hidden Penis!"

"Dragon, Baz, _dragon!_"

"Oh sorry, Crouching _Penis_, Hidden Tiger!"

"What is up with the penis jokes, Baz? Geez. It's a little too early in the year for your innuendos! Gross!"

"Stop watching porn, Baz."

"What does innuendo mean?"

"Never mind."

"Okay, Baz, your friends are right, easy on the jokes, as it _is_ a little early in the year for that," Rachel says, "But I don't understand what the Kung Fu or karate has to do with the choreography."

"We be doing karate while singing, Miz B," Baz answers.

When Rachel does not make a move to say anything, and instead stares at each student in disbelief, the kids grin and Kareem says, "Just kidding, Miz B. We kind of decided on something simple. We kind of figured it's a bit hard to sing and dance anyway, so just a bit of swaying from side to side, hands up in the air, a bit of footwork and all that."

"Yeah, we be making like trees and branching out!"

Rachel puts her hand on her forehead and starts to knead it, feeling the headache coming on.

"Fine," she says, "We can't practice the choreography anyway 'til you get the singing right first. Let's take it from the top then. From 'Killing Me Softly'. With the _correct_ lyrics this time, please."

* * *

Everything goes well, until one day, in the middle of January, whilst Rachel is teaching her class about Anne Frank's Diary, which, true to her word, is an easy classic to read and which the class is responding to quite well, when Mr. Smith rushes to her room, out of breath, panicky and nervous, and says, "Hey, Miz B, one of your students is on the roof."

"What? Who?"

"Henry James Carter Parks."

It takes Rachel a second to realize he is talking about Baz. Baz had been quiet the past few days in class, and had missed some Glee Club practices. "What's he doing there?"

"I think he's going to jump. I think we've got a jumper on our hands."

* * *

**_Author's end notes:_**

**_There you have it. Thank you for reading and reviewing this chapter. I know it's not as fluffy as the holiday chapters, but everyone has to eventually go back to work after the holidays! Hope you enjoyed it anyway!_**

**_Also, thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing Chapter 20! Kutee and CharmUrAngel wants you to know, Suzie can best be imagined as this young actress, Gigi Papasavvas. I think she might be perfect for Suzie. :) Thanks, Kutee!_**

**_Also, have to say, I think it would be positively awesome if there was actually a high school musical about vampires, werewolves, fairies and witches! _:-)**

**_Also, special thanks to my beta and friend, DragonsWillFly, who went over this even through power failures and climate change! Many thanks! ;)_**

**_To MelovePezberry - I'm glad you love the ring! Re: Suzie - yes, she may be a wise, precocious pre-teen but there are a lot of things she can still miss. :) As for the Lopez family being fun, yes, I wanted a family that kind of provided a contrast to all the drama of the Hudsons and Hummels. As for Rachel's parents - you're right, of course but in-laws have always been a tough thing to navigate. Thanks for reading and reviewing!_**

**_To parker88 - Thanks for your kind review! As for Rachel's fathers, when I saw them on Glee, they kind of struck me as perfectionists who only want the best for their daughter, their hearts may be in the right place, but it's also at the expense of their daughter's happiness at times. As for Santana's Abuela - yes, as we may have already seen in the show and yes, Santana's explanation to Suzie about her Abuela's actions was something I also thought would be true in a lot of cases and provided the contrast to the rest of the Lopez family. I wanted an awesome family that broke the kind of stereotype I keep seeing about minority families. :) As for the best man - hahaha! Yes, I think that was funny. Also, glad you love the ending! Thanks for reading and reviewing!_**

**_To CarolineSC - Thanks for reading and reviewing! As for Kurt - here's your answer! Hahah!_**

**_To VickiiMadd - Glad you are having an all you can eat 24/7 buffet, wherever you are! Glad you enjoyed this chapter. Thanks for reading and reviewing!_**

**_To SoFlaComet - I'm glad you enjoyed Chapter 20. As for Rachel's fathers - glad you enjoyed that as well. I had fun writing them. As for the nice moment between Santana and Suzie - yes, I wanted a realistic view about coming out, not too over the top or strangely under the radar, like they usually do on the show. :) Thanks for reading and reviewing and you're welcome!_**

**_To kutee - Glad you thought Chapter 20 was awesome! As I already mentioned, I wanted a fun Lopez family and a fun holiday. :)As for Carlos and Santana- hahaha! I wanted a sibling interaction that wasn't all about the drama and was mostly about the teasing and the hitting, which is probably mostly true in most cases! Glad you loved the family and yes, Tia Evita is largely based on Sofia Vergara. ;) Because I love her! In fact, feel free to imagine Dr. Lopez as a cross between Edward James Olmos and George Lopez and Max as Michelle Rodriguez. :) Because they're awesome. As for Baz and gang - hope this chapter answers that! Thanks for reading and reviewing!_**

**_To amazinglife18 - Glad you enjoyed every moment! I loved your whole review, thank you. I'm glad it reminded you of your own family as I did want to illustrate a fun family holiday that wasn't all about the drama and was mostly about the love and care and the humor. :) Glad you loved Tia Evita, I think she's fun! ;) And yes, she probably rubbed off on Santana a bit! :) As for Santana's Abuela - yes, it's tough, but there are people like that out there, but yes, Suzie is awesome, isn't she? As for Rachel's dads - yes, it's tough I think, I'm sure they mean well, but it does come off as mean, doesn't it? As for the ending, glad you loved it! Thanks for reading and reviewing! :)_**

**_CharmURAngel - Glad you love the story! I've checked out Gigi Papasavvas and I like her! Thanks for reading and reviewing!_**

**_To dayabieberxo - Glad you loved this update. Thanks for reading and reviewing!_**

**_Grateful acknowledgement to sparknotes dot com for the insights into "The Color Purple" and "Hunger Games". I haven't read "The Color Purple" in ages, so needed to brush up on it. So:_**

**_SparkNotes Editors. (2003). SparkNote on The Color Purple. Retrieved October 17, 2012, from sparknotes dot com slash lit slash purple_**

**_SparkNotes Editors. (2012). SparkNote on The Hunger Games. Retrieved October 17, 2012, from sparknotes dot com slash lit slash the-hunger-games_**

**_Featured songs for this chapter/s:_**

**_"Desert Rose" by Sting_**

**_"Killing Me Softly" by The Fugees_**

**_"Redemption Song" by Bob Marley as sang by "Sweet Honey in the Rock"_**


	22. Heroes: Got Nothing On You

**_Author's note: Team Pezberry! Chapter 22 is up! Enjoy!_**

* * *

Rachel and Mr. Smith rush to the top floor of the main building, and see the tall, muscular, dark form of Baz standing on the edge of the building, as a small crowd of students and teachers gather below. Rachel can see the unmistakable form of Principal Abrams (his bald pate is unmistakable anywhere, Rachel thinks) on the phone talking frantically to someone. The crowd looks very small from up here. She can see faces turned up to look at the scene above. For a second, Rachel feels a sudden dizziness, glancing down at the grounds. Santana has always been the one who is unafraid of heights. She shivers. The sky above is dark and gloomy, the grounds below covered with snow and sludge. She can see rows of brick buildings from here, can see the skyline of the city from here. It is freezing cold. The wind picks up and she draws her thick, fur-lined jacket closer toward herself, the jacket she had borrowed from Santana. Santana's vague scent is still on the jacket. Somehow it comforts her. The wind blows strands of her dark hair to her face and she impatiently pushes the strands away from her face. She looks to Baz.

"Principal Abrams said help is on the way, but they might not come in time, so we have to talk him down," Mr. Smith says along the way, as they rush up the many flights of stairs. "He doesn't want to talk to anyone, but I figure he'd talk to you. He likes you. I think if there's anyone he'll listen to, he'll listen to you."

Rachel glances at Mr. Smith as they rush up the stairs and finds anxiety, worry there. It strikes Rachel now that Mr. Smith, for all his faults, is actually genuinely concerned about these kids. Rachel's heart is pounding against her chest. That is way too much responsibility for one tiny person to bear, she thinks to herself. She had never known anyone who tried to commit suicide much less know _how_ to talk anyone down who was about to jump off a ledge. There was Karofsky once, in high school, but she barely knew Karofsky. She suddenly feels nervous and anxious. She starts playing with her ring.

"Hey, guy," Mr. Smith says now, in between wheezing and gasping for breath, breath coming out in ghostly whisps. "Going on a space walk are we?"

Rachel, equally exhausted from climbing up the stairs, glares at him. "Don't. Just don't."

"Don't be coming near me! I'm gonna jump!" Baz warns, shivering and afraid.

"Okay," Rachel says calmly. "What are you doing here?"

"Miz B, I think I be the dumbest person in the world," Baz says, teeth chattering.

"Welllll…" Mr. Smith starts to speak but a glare from Rachel shuts him up.

"What? Who told you that?" Rachel asks, stamping her feet in the cold.

"Nobody had to tell me," Baz says. "I tried to commit suicide once before. I drank something. And I didn't _die_. I looked at the label and it said 'Vagisil'. I'm so dumb I can't even kill myself properly!"

"What?" Mr. Smith asks. "Did you try to cut yourself with a tampon, too?"

Rachel hits Mr. Smith's arm. "Mr. Smith!" she chides him, giving him an angry look. "If you don't shut up, _I'm_ going to push you over the edge."

"Sorry, Miz B," Mr. Smith apologizes.

"What's a tampon?" Baz asks, curious.

Rachel blushes.

"Maybe I should move to Canadia," Baz says now.

"Canadia?" Rachel asks.

"You know, _Canadia_. Where the Canadians are. They be nicer than the kids here," Baz says. "Maybe I be really doing the world a favor."

Presently, Jamal, McG, Anferny and Kareem appear on the roof with them, all bundled up in caps and scarves and thick jackets and equally shivering and panting from having to go up a lot of stairs. Jamal has a guitar slung on his shoulder. Rachel wishes she had the good sense to bundle herself up, as well, but there was no time. Her hands are clammy, her cheeks are icy, she feels the chill deep inside her soul, but she does not think it is from the cold.

Each one makes a move to approach them, but Rachel looks to them, holds up a hand, knits her eyebrows, and shakes her head. She motions for them to step back. The kids stop and step back, looking guilty and worried and anxious. They stand around uncertainly as Rachel glances down the roof, fighting off nausea and dizziness and finds that the crowd on the grounds has increased, everyone looking up as the drama unfolds.

Through the frosty cold, Rachel wracks her brain for something encouraging or inspiring to say, but finds none forthcoming. Mr. Smith looks at her, eyebrows raised, as if asking her what the next step is. She shakes her head, disappointed, as if to say, "I've got nothing."

Mr. Smith suddenly has an idea and motions to Jamal to come forward. Jamal approaches, puzzled, but Mr. Smith impatiently motions for him to give him the guitar. When Jamal gives him the guitar, Mr. Smith waves him away.

Mr. Smith blows on his fingers, shakes them, puts one foot on the ledge, slings the guitar on his shoulder, rests the guitar's body on his leg, and starts to tune the guitar. The first twang makes Baz and Rachel turn to him at the same time and Baz asks, "What the hell are you doing, Mr. Smith?!"

"Language, Baz," Rachel says matter-of-factly to Baz. Then she turns to Mr. Smith and demands, "And what the _hell_ are you doing, Mr. Smith?"

"I have no idea," Mr. Smith mutters, but then, when he feels he is satisfied that the guitar is finely-tuned, he strums it once, then says, "But! Baz, as you know, music is the rhythm of the soul. When you're pissed off, it's a great way to let off steam, you know, sing your feelings and stuff."

Rachel already knows this is probably a bad idea. Mr. Schuester always encouraged his Glee Club students to sing and _only_ sing their feelings to each other, so much so that most of the Glee Club members have never had any real conversations about their friendships and relationships outside of singing. In fact, in some cases, the Glee kids of McKinley High had actually developed an _inability_ to have real conversations for all the singing they used to do. But she patiently waits to see what Mr. Smith has up his sleeve and is pleasantly surprised and mildly horrified when Mr. Smith starts singing in his horribly out of tune voice, David Soul's "Don't Give Up On Us Baby."

"_Don't give up on us, baby_

_Don't make the wrong seem right_

_The future isn't just one night_

_It's written in the moonlight_

_Painted on the stars_

_We can't change ours…"_

Rachel thinks Mr. Smith's singing voice is a cross between a prepubescent boy on the cusp of adolescence and a goat being mercilessly slaughtered. In fact, it reminds her of that scene in "My Best Friend's Wedding" when Cameron Diaz sang that Dusty Springfield song. Except Mr. Smith's voice is much, much worse than Cameron Diaz's. She grimaces. She knows not everyone has perfect pitch, but she still feels sorry and horrified at this one display of bad singing.

"What are you doing?!" Baz demands now, voice high and cracking and panicking, face equally horrified. "I think I'm really going to jump now!"

Rachel glares at him. "Don't help, Mr. Smith."

"Sorry, sorry," Mr. Smith says, putting his hand up, then he stops, thinks and says, "Oooh, I got one for you."

He starts strumming the guitar again and despite themselves, Baz and Rachel wait and listen to what atrocious song he will sing this time and then he starts singing, trying to be heard above the low howling of the wind,

"_Wish you could step back from that ledge my friend, _

_You could cut ties with all the lies _

_That you've been living in_

_And if you do not want to see me again_

_I would understand_

_I would understand…"_

She recognizes the song as Third Eye Blind's "Jumper", yet another song Santana likes. Baz and Rachel grimace at how awfully sung the song is. It takes her a second to realize this is probably _not_ the best song choice for a jumper about to jump off the edge of a building. She suddenly has an urge to take the guitar and beat Mr. Smith senseless with it. She glances down at the crowd and can barely make out the equally puzzled looks on the faces turned up to the building. Presently, Mr. Smith pauses, puts his hands to his forehead and says, "Uh, I forgot the rest of the lyrics…Wait…" Rachel is relieved he has forgotten the rest of the song.

Baz turns to Rachel and says, pleadingly, "Make him stop please."

Rachel looks at Baz and she sees, _really_ sees, the terror in Baz's eyes. But not only the terror, but the confusion as well, the anxiety, the panic and the million other emotions that has nothing to do with Mr. Smith's singing, and everything to do with adolescence and the chaos it brings, all the emotions that indicate that Baz does not really want to jump, but also wants all the pain to go away.

"Mr. Smith…" Rachel begins now.

"Okay, okay, you don't like that song, sorry," Mr. Smith says, oblivious. "Well, what song do you like? What would you like me to sing?" he asks, drumming his fingers on the side of the guitar.

"Ugh. Mr. Smith, no offense, but that's one of the most awful singing I've ever heard," Baz says. "Maybe we should be leaving the singing to professionals. Like Miz B. 'Cause Miz B is awesome!"

"Okay, what do you want Miz B to sing?" Mr. Smith asks him.

"Well, I kinda be likin' 'Heroes' by Wallflowers these days," Baz says. When Mr. Smith gives him a puzzled look, Baz says, defensively, "What? I like 'Godzilla' okay?"

"Excellent!" exclaims. "You're in luck! Because I actually dig that song when it was first sung by David Bowie."

"Who's David Bowie?" Baz asks.

"Never mind," Mr. Smith says as he starts to strum the first strains of 'Heroes'. As he does, he motions to Rachel to start singing it.

Rachel knows of the song, but does not know all the lyrics, but as Mr. Smith looks at her, with an imploring look on his face, she realizes that Mr. Smith is actually stalling for time, distracting Baz from having to jump from the ledge. She spies that a group of people are spreading out a piece of canvass that they hope can catch Baz should he jump. There's a flurry of activity down on the grounds that she cannot quite make out for the dizziness she is now feeling. She looks back up.

As Baz and Mr. Smith wait for her to start singing, she swallows, heart pounding, and starts singing,

"_I, I wish you could swim_

_Like the dolphins, like dolphins can swim_

_Though nothing, nothing can keep us together_

_We can beat them, forever and ever_

_We can be heroes, just for one day…"_

Then she stops, closes her eyes, and says, somewhat apologetically, "I'm sorry, I forgot what was supposed to come next…"

"_I… I will be king, and you… you will be queen,_" Mr. Smith sings, by way of supplying the next line of the song.

"_Though nothing, nothing will drive them away…we can be heroes, just for one day…we can be us just for one day…_"

All three look behind them to the trio of Baz's friends gathered at the back, and see that Jamal has sung the next line of the song. Rachel smiles at Jamal. Jamal smiles sheepishly back.

"Do you know the next line?" Mr. Smith asks Baz, still strumming the guitar. When Baz nods, Mr. Smith nods back and says, encouragingly, "Well, sing it for us, then. Take us home, Baz."

Baz comes nearer so he can hear the guitar playing above the wind blowing around them.

"_I…I remember standing by the wall_

_And the guns shot above our heads_

_And we kissed, as though nothing could fall_

_And the shame, was on the other side_

_Oh, we can beat them, forever and ever…"_

Then everyone, Mr. Smith, Rachel, Baz, the other kids on the roof, some of the people in the crowd, sing,

"_We can be heroes, just for one day…_

_We can be heroes…_

_We can be heroes…"_

When Baz moves a bit closer to Mr. Smith, Mr. Smith suddenly and swiftly grabs Baz and pulls him back from the ledge, throwing him back on the roof of the building and away from the ledge with a thud. There is a collective gasp from the crowd below, and from the other kids and Rachel, followed by a sigh of relief when they realize Baz is now safely away from the ledge and crumpled in a heap on the ground. It is only when Rachel puts a hand on her forehead does she realize that her hand is cold and shaking. When she exhales with relief, she realizes that she has held her breath the whole time when Mr. Smith has grabbed Baz away from the ledge.

* * *

Later, just before Principal Abrams and the rescuers come up to the roof, and Mr. Smith makes the other boys leave the roof so Rachel can talk to Baz, Rachel squats beside Baz, now sitting on the ground. The boys had given Rachel and Baz their jackets, so Rachel feels a bit warmer and the shivering has abated a bit. It is still cold and windy though.

Baz seems disappointed that he could not kill himself.

"Are you okay? What were you doing out on the ledge?" Rachel asks.

"Everyone thinks I'm dumb," Baz states matter-of-factly.

"No, you're not," Rachel says, patiently. "You just have a…different perspective on the world, is all."

"What's…"

"View," Rachel quickly supplies. "You just have a different _view_ of the world."

"See? I be so stupid," Baz says, dejected. "Why'd you stop me? You be the only one patient enough to talk to me. I be doing the world a favor. I barely survive high school. You heard what the other kids said. My life ain't going nowhere anyway."

"_Isn't_. And what did I tell you about double negatives? And don't say that," Rachel says gently. "Of course you matter. Everyone in the world matters."

"No I don't," Baz insists. "If I did, my dad woulda stayed. Even my own dad didn't think I be important enough to stay for. He called me his 'bastard son'. The name stuck all the way to junior high. Then Anferny told me the best way to stop people teasin' me about it was to take the name, own it, so people would stop makin' fun of me. So I did. That's why my name is Baz. It's short for '_bastard_'."

"Oh." Rachel is speechless, does not know what to say. She bites her lower lip, shivers in the cold.

They are silent for what seems like forever, two people huddled on the roof of the Taft High School building, beneath cloudy gray skies, and snowy grounds and a cold wind blowing around them. She shivers, wishes she could say something to alleviate the pain, the depression, but she feels like nothing she would ever say would make him feel better. And she is never one to say things just for the sake of saying it. Never was one to tell people what they _want_ to hear. But for some strange reason, she feels like she wants to say something, because when she looks at Baz, she remembers herself, at that age, maybe not as slow, but definitely as naïve, and equally as terrified. High school was never a picnic for her either, most times it was a nightmare that she would not want to relive for all the money in the world, but surviving it also spelled the difference between NYADA and her dreams, and a life spent in Lima wondering what if.

She sighs now. "I used to be called 'loser' in high school."

Baz takes himself away from his own thoughts to look at Rachel, focusing his eyes on her. "What?"

"Yes. 'Loser'. There were many other more colorful names for me, but that was the one word that stuck with me all the way to senior year," she says.

"For real?" Baz asks, genuine interest in his yes.

Rachel sighs and smiles this sad little smile. "For real."

"But you so awesome, Miz B," Baz says now, "And so cool and _together_. How come they call you that?"

"Thanks. But yes," Rachel confirms. "On the worst days, I'd get slushied as well. Which is _not_ something I'd wish on anyone. It's cold and it burns and it takes hours to wash off your hair. And I kept getting slushied long after I'd made it to the honor society, aced my SATs, won competitions, whatever…"

Baz listens intently as he waits for her to continue. Rachel falls silent, remembering those days. "It was so bad I even came up with a song for it called 'Loser Like Me'."

Baz takes this in, nods, and listens as Rachel says, "I figured if I could just win one more competition, or be president of one more club, I'd earn the respect of the other kids. And I would, for a few days, and then people forget and then everything goes back to normal." She shrugs. "I don't know why. It was Ohio. It was a bit weird there."

She sighs. "And then I graduated and moved off to New York and thought it would get better. And then I get there and realize it _doesn't_ get better. In fact, it gets worse."

"That ain't helping me, Miz B," Baz says.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," Rachel says now, smiling. "Just keeping it real," she continues, remembering Santana's favorite line from high school. "I'm not going to sugarcoat it for you, Baz. Sometimes, it gets worse before it gets better. Sometimes you have to suffer first before things start looking up."

Baz sighs as he listens to Rachel.

"But," Rachel says now, in this hopeful tone that makes Baz look up to her, "You know what?"

"What?" Baz asks.

"It won't be like that forever," Rachel says, smiling. "It won't rain all the time. Things won't be horrible all the time. Things do get better. And it's going to be the same for you, too, Baz. You just…have to hang in there and hold on. Just take it a day at a time. Just don't give up. If you do, you prove people right - that you'll never amount to anything or whatever. But, God, or whoever you believe in, doesn't really give you any burdens greater than you can bear. You _will_ get through this."

Baz looks at her for a few moments, letting what she said sink in. It is not the best advice she has given anyone, but she hopes it is enough.

"Was it like that for you, too, Miz B?" he asks now, curious.

Rachel laughs. "Sort of. You know how high school kids are. They're mean. And horrible! And some of them continued to be jerks all the way to graduation. But some of them became friends. And some of them…well, some of them just eventually came to mean more than most…" She smiles, thinking of Santana and their ever evolving relationship. She fingers the ring on her finger. A surge of love floods through her now, thinking of Santana. "But anyway, I got through all that and survived high school and survived college and you certainly as hell are going to survive yours, or so help me god, I'm going to make you read sheet music til graduation!"

"Miz B!" Baz says, laughing, a little shocked. "Language!"

Rachel laughs. "Come on, it's cold and I need some coffee. And I need my caffeine before Principal Abrams bothers me with paperwork."

"Okay."

As they get up and exchange a look of shared camaraderie, like they have just survived a war together, Rachel tells him, "Just remember Baz, you have a right to be here. You were _meant_ to be here. Don't let anyone else tell you otherwise, okay?"

Baz thinks this over and nods before saying, "Okay, Miz B. Thank you."

Rachel smiles at Baz warmly. "You're welcome."

* * *

Later, when a local TV news crew comes rushing to interview her as she leaves the building after the classes of the day end and after she has talked to Principal Abrams about what happened on the roof, she points to Mr. Smith who is standing behind her and says, "He's the one you should talk to. He's the real hero." She smiles at Mr. Smith as she does so. A look of understanding seems to pass over Mr. Smith's eyes as he nods and braces himself for the news crew's lights, intrusive camera and even more intrusive microphones and questions.

When she spies Santana's bright red Honda pulling up a few meters from the school, Rachel sighs with relief and rushes towards the car, away from the crowd gathering around Mr. Smith and the local TV news crew. She is not really in the mood for standing around in the cold, answering trite questions and having her face all over the news. She is glad Santana is here. Santana had called her earlier saying she was picking Rachel up.

Santana opens the passenger door and leaning over, grins and says, "Hey, babe! Get in!"

A blast of hip hop music from the car greets Rachel as she grins back, gets in the car and buckles herself into place. Suzie, who Santana has picked up from her school says, "Hi, Mee!" kisses her mother on the cheek, before she offers her hands to get Rachel's things and puts them beside her. Rachel hands her her book bag but keeps her shoulder bag and purse with her. Kate, who is sitting beside her, says, "Hi, Miss Berry!"

Rachel grins at her and says, "Hey, honey. Hi, Kate."

"I picked them up both," Santana says now. "Got off early from work. I'm dropping Kate off at their house later. She's staying over for dinner. That okay? You hungry? You in the mood for pizza? Got take out from Luigi's. The usual. Picking it up now. Dinner at home. What's with the crowd?"

Santana asks the questions in quick succession even as she expertly backs out of the Taft parking lot.

"Yes, it's okay, I'm not that hungry, but pizza would be great and the crowd," here Rachel shrugs, as she looks back at the crowd, "Don't know really. Some local student hero or something. I don't know."

"Oh," Santana says. The stereo, which is plugged into Santana's iPod, now plays B.O.B.'s "Nothing On You" and Santana turns up the volume as she says, "Check it out, babe, I've been practicing this with the kids. Group sing everyone!"

Santana and Kate start singing the first part of the song, the chorus. Santana's husky alto and Kate's strong, clear, girlish soprano blend together well, Rachel thinks as she smiles at them.

"_Beautiful girls all over the world, _

_I could be chasing_

_But my time would be wasted, _

_They got nothing on you, baby_

_Nothing on you, baby_

_They might say hi, and I might say hey_

_But you shouldn't worry, about what they say_

_Because they got nothing on you, baby_

_Nothing on you, baby…"_

Suzie occasionally leans over to say, "_Not-not-nothing on you, babe, nothing on you…not-not-nothing on you babe…_"

Then Santana starts rapping the next stanza, left hand on the steering wheel as right hand alternates between shifting gears, waving itself in the air, and resting itself on Rachel's left thigh, head bobbing and upper body moving with the rhythm of the song. There's something about this goofy, carefree Santana that reminds Rachel so much of high school Santana, the one that always danced with Brittany whenever a song was sung in Glee Club, the one that seemed happiest singing and dancing and only when she was singing and dancing. She smiles now at the thought. This goofy, carefree Santana now seems younger somehow and it makes Rachel's heart seize a bit, takes her breath away, just looking at her fiancée, all unconventionally beautiful in her power suit, long dark hair falling in waves around her shoulders and smiling that smile that only seems meant for Rachel as she alternates between looking at Rachel and checking the side mirrors and the road. There is something oddly _domestic, _ something almost comical, about a once bitchy, perpetually scowling high school cheerleader now turned lawyer and mother of one, enjoying and having a group sing with a couple of children she has just picked up from school, in the car.

Suzie contributes to Santana's rapping by repeating each word at the end of the song, saying, "From!" "Done!" "Fun!" "Spun!" "Get Some!" "Sun!" "Won!" "None!" Rachel winces a little at Suzie saying "Get some!" Santana winks at her. Rachel shakes her head.

"_I know you feel where I'm coming from_

_Regardless of the things in my past that I've done_

_Most of it really was for the hell of the fun_

_On a carousel, so around I spun_

_With no direction, just trying to get some_

_Trying to chase skirts, living in the summer sun_

_And so I lost more than I had ever won_

_And honestly, I ended up with none…"_

Then Santana and Kate start singing the bridge, with occasional backing vocals from Suzie, who continues to echo the last part of each line of the song.

"_It's so much nonsense, it's on my conscience_

_I'm thinking 'maybe I should get it out'_

_And I don't want to sound redundant_

_But I was wondering, if there was something that you want to know_

_But never mind that, we should let it go_

_Because we don't want to be a TV episode_

_And all the bad thoughts just let them go, go, go, go, go…"_

Then she and Kate start singing the chorus again and Suzie leans over to sing, "_Not-not-nothing on you, babe, not-nothing on you…not-not-nothing on you babe…_"

"Oh, babe, this is my favorite part," Santana quickly says as she starts rapping the next part, right hand moving in the air to make her point. She edits a part of the next stanza for the kids.

"_Hands down, there will never be another one _

_I've been around, and I've never seen another one _

_Because your style, I ain't really got nothing on _

_And you wild when you ain't got nothing _

_Baby you the whole package_

_Plus you pay your taxes_

_And you keep it real, while them others stay plastic_

_You're my Wonder Woman, call me Mr. Fantastic_

_Stop, now think about it…"_

For each end of the line, Suzie again leans over and shouts, "Nope!", "Never!", "Nothing!", "Ha-ha!", "Package!", "Taxes!", "Plastic!" and "Fantastic!".

"Baby, you're the whole package," Santana says now, breaking mid-song to say this to her. "And you pay your taxes! You're perfect!"

Then the three do the bridge and chorus again as Rachel starts laughing, the tension and relief flowing out of her like water, the energy and excitement and good mood from the three affecting her. It has been a hard, rough day for her at work and she is glad it is over.

"Hey, made your mom laugh! Good job everyone!" Santana says now, glancing at the mirror to Suzie and winking at her. Santana reaches out her right hand and runs the back of her hand on Rachel's cheek. She smiles at Rachel and Rachel smiles back.

"You okay?" Santana says quietly, eyebrows raised in question, above the din of the two girls laughing and the loud music in the background.

Rachel nods. Santana nods back.

The two girls squeal triumphantly as they settle back down at the back.

When the song finishes, Rachel settles back to listen to what else Santana has on her playlist as buildings and streets and people whiz by, but then she realizes the same song is playing again.

She glances at Santana, with a quizzical look on her face. Santana gives her an apologetic, sheepish look.

"Hee, sorry babe, we _really_ love this song," Santana says, grinning. "We're celebrating! Suzie and Kate got the part for that 'Little Prince' Musical Suzie was telling us about."

"Oh, god, that song's going to be in my head the whole day now!" Rachel complains, grinning. She turns around and says, "Honey, that's great! Congrats! Congrats to you, too, Kate!"

The girls grin at Rachel. Rachel vaguely remembers Suzie mentioning wanting to audition for the school's upcoming stage production of Antoine De Sainte Exupery's "The Little Prince". Suzie had expressed wanting to be the fox, especially since she found out Kate was auditioning for the part of The Prince. Rachel realizes this would mean sewing costumes, helping out with the production, and so on, and while she does not mind it, it also means having to see Mrs. Sheridan occasionally. But Santana's right hand finds her hands, clasped in front of her, and gives them a reassuring squeeze, even as she sees Santana's dark eyes on the mirror smiling at her. She nods her head.

"Okay, kids. One more time! From the top!" Santana announces cheerfully.

They start singing the song again and Rachel just smiles.

* * *

Later, over take-out regular and vegetarian pizza, buffalo wings, fries, cokes and juice, in the kitchen, Suzie and Kate talk about their days to the women as the women listen patiently and occasionally nod and ask a few questions. Santana has good-naturedly removed the tomatoes from Rachel's pizza and is eating them now even as Rachel has picked off the onions from Santana's pizza, much to Santana's chagrin. There is much excitement between the two girls as they talk about the play and Rachel and Santana grin as they listen to them talk about their rehearsals and what they are supposed to do.

Presently, the radio plays B.O.B.'s "Nothing On You" again and Santana stops, drops her fork, and announces, "Group sing everyone! It's our song!"

The two girls squeal, drop their forks simultaneously and Suzie starts dancing as Santana and Kate start singing and rapping in the kitchen. Santana increases the volume on the radio as they do so.

"_Beautiful girls all over the world, _

_I could be chasing_

_But my time would be wasted…"_

"Okay, everyone, put your right forward, forward and back, forward and back," Santana instructs the kids, boots moving forward and back on the kitchen floor.

"_They got nothing on you, baby_

_Nothing on you, baby…"_

"Alright, now do the shoulder shake, right shoulder, then left shoulder," Santana continues, as she shakes her shoulders. The kids comply, giggling as they move to follow her.

"_They might say hi, and I might say hey_

_But you shouldn't worry, about what they say…"_

"Alright, put your hands in the air," Santana says now, putting her hands in the air. The kids comply eagerly. "And wave 'em like you just don't care!"

The kids giggle as they do so, hands flailing in the air.

"_Because they got nothing on you, baby_

_Nothing on you, baby…"_

"And now, everyone for themselves!" Santana announces. "Free for all! Dance like there's no tomorrow!"

Santana turns to Rachel now, and in a mock serious tone, that sounds like a bad Russian accent, she says, "Come, my love, let us dance like children of the night…"

Rachel laughs as Santana grabs her and starts dancing with her to the song, Santana bobbing her head, shaking her body, waving her arms around, then grabbing Rachel's hand and twirling around the kitchen. Suzie jumps up and down, arms flailing wildly, head shaking from side to side, as she watches Kate sing. Kate grins at her and winks. Suzie blushes and smiles.

The scene reminds Rachel so much of their McKinley Glee Club days and it makes her smile.

Rachel breaks off from the dancing when her mobile phone rings. She glances at the caller ID and she realizes it is her agent, McPherson. Santana raises her eyebrows in a silent question, and Rachel mouths, "I've got to take this." Santana nods as she continues to dance with the kids.

"Hey," McPherson says now, without any introduction. "What's up? Where are you at?"

Rachel moves to the hallway, away from Santana and the kids so she can hear McPherson. "Home," she says, softly.

"Oh, cool," McPherson says. "You still with that gorgeous lady friend of yours, Santana?"

Rachel smiles. "Yes."

"Awesome! How long you guys been going out? You guys should totally just get married!" McPherson says cheerfully.

Rachel smiles at this. One of the reasons she had stayed with McPherson this long is because while he is protective of her image and her career and has told her to be discreet with her personal life, he has not told her to get a beard or hide who she is. He respects her personal life like he respects her talent. She feels a certain affection for McPherson, too, just because the agent has been through her ups and downs, helped her through her first auditions, her first rejections, all through her breakout performance on Broadway, her first nomination, her first Tony win, her first wedding, her divorce, the operation and he was such a trooper when she had announced she wanted to take a break, did not even flinch when she announced she was teaching high school in Brooklyn. McPherson knows enough than to question her decisions, and understands and respects her for it.

McPherson and Santana get along well, owing to the fact that both are law graduates and thus have more in common than most, and although Santana thinks lawyers-turned-agents are just greedy sharks in suits and McPherson thinks non-profit human rights activist lawyers are annoying goody-two-shoes who should get a life, they do have a grudging respect for each other.

"We are," Rachel says matter-of-factly.

"No shit!" McPherson says, excitedly. "About time! So happy for you! Congrats!"

"Thanks, Mac," Rachel says.

"And how's Suzie?"

"Suzie's great."

"Cool. Anyway, where've you been? Been trying to call you for ages!"

"I've been busy," Rachel says, looking to the kitchen longingly, wanting to return to the chatter and fun shared by Santana with their daughter and her friend. "What's up?"

"That's what I'm calling about," McPherson says, wasting no time. McPherson has always been to the point and no-nonsense and she appreciates this.

"What?" Rachel asks.

"So, I was in a meeting today and there's this guy who I haven't seen in ages, and he mentions this top secret project over on Broadway and at first he wasn't really keen on saying what it was but then he…"

"Get to the point, please," Rachel says, testily. Maybe he is not as to the point as she remembers him.

"Wait for it…" McPherson says, patiently.

"Mac… I don't have time for this…"

"Are you sitting down for this?"

"What?"

"There's going to be a Barbara Streisand musical on Broadway soon!" McPherson announces triumphantly. "It's very hush-hush right now, but Barbara Streisand's kind of green lit it and it's not a bio-musical or anything, it just features songs she's sung and stuff, but it's very exciting and they're planning a movie off of the musical as well."

Rachel is speechless. She feels weak, feels her heart start beating fast, leans on the wall for support. She closes her eyes.

"Rachel? Rachel, are you there?" McPherson asks, when Rachel does not say anything.

"Yeah, I'm here," Rachel says softly.

"I know you're like a big Barbara Streisand fan, you wouldn't stop talking about her the first time we met and I thought this would be the perfect project for your comeback."

"I don't know what to say, Mac. I mean…wow…"

"Say yes!" McPherson cries. "Okay, so it wasn't easy, but I snagged an audition for you, for both the musical and the movie, and I've given them your headshot and samples of songs you've sung and stuff," McPherson says, "And what's great about it is Bob, the producer, he's familiar with your work, saw some of your musicals on Broadway so he's really interested to meet you."

"Uh-huh," Rachel murmurs.

"Yeah," McPherson says, oblivious to Rachel's flat answers. "So, I've been able to arrange a meeting for you at the end of the month. You up for it? What you got lined up?"

When Rachel does not answer, McPherson continues, "I'm pretty sure you'll get in, and when you do, rehearsals start February, show starts around spring. I think it's going to be a year's contract, plus a tour, and the movie starts shooting maybe next year."

Rachel listens as McPherson tells her the exact date and she searches her mind, trying to recall whether she has anything planned for the date.

Then she realizes that that is the day of her Glee Club's quarter finals.

* * *

**_Author's end notes:_**

**_That's it for Chapter 22! Thanks for reading and reviewing! As always your reviews ensure inspiration and encouragement. :) It is much appreciated! :) _**

**_Also, again, thank you for reading and reviewing Chapter 21. _**

**_Again, to my beta, DragonsWillFly - you know the drill! Thanks for going over this! ;)_**

**_To SoFlaComet - Glad you loved the interaction between Kurt and snarky Santana. I think of all the characters in Glee, Rachel, Santana and Kurt are the most fun to play around with. :) Plus they are the ones whose interaction in the show I enjoyed the most. Re: Worried about Baz - Hope this chapter answers that. :) And as always, you're welcome and thank you for reading and reviewing._**

**_To kutee - Glad you loved Kurt and Santana's bitch fest and the class stuff, as I enjoyed writing them. :) Re: How could you do this to me ? - I'm so sorry. :-) Hope this chapter answers that. :) Thanks for reading and reviewing. :-)_**

**_To parker88 - RE: Poor Rachel and Santana's domestic bliss interrupted- hahah! I know, right? RE: The Taft High kids are just as hilarious - Glad you enjoyed it! :) RE: I've been really enjoying your writing of Pezberry lately. - I'm glad you are enjoying the Pezberry writing. :) Also, does that mean you weren't enjoying it before? ;) hahaha! As for Baz, hope this chapter answers that! Glad you love the update. Thanks for reading and reviewing._**

**_To VickiiMadd - Re: Ohh Noh baz! *eats popcorn while imagining the whole scene*- hahaha! Your comments are the best, aren't they? :) *eats own popcorn* Thanks for reading and reviewing! :)_**

**_To MelovePezberry - Re: Hi First Love Love Love that they are back. - Glad you loved it! Re: Kurt showing up at the place while they were in the middle of getting busy was funny.- It was, wasn' it? Glad you liked the Kurt and Santana scene, as well the kids. As for Baz, so sorry, hope this chapter answers that! ;) So sorry to stress you out. Hope you are okay, re: Hurricane Sandy stress. :)_**

**_Featured songs for this chapter:_**

**_"Don't Give Up On Us Baby" by David Soul_**

**_"Jumper" by Third Eye Blind_**

**_"Heroes" by Wallflower_**

**_"Nothing on You" by B.O.B featuring Bruno Mars (because I'm loving this song, right now, y'all! And Santana can totally sing and rap this song!)_**


	23. Decisions, Decisions

**_Author's note: Team Pezberry! Chapter 23 is up! Hope you like! _**

* * *

"Rachel? Rachel?" McPherson asks again and again, this time a slight worry in his tone, when Rachel does not respond.

Rachel has forgotten she is still on the phone with her long-time agent, lost in her own thoughts.

"Yes, I'm here," Rachel says by way of reply.

"So, are you up for it? I know your doctor says to take it easy with the singing and stuff, but it's been months, I think you're ready to get back on the horse," McPherson says. "Anyway, can you make it?" McPherson says now, nervous, eager, impatient for a reply.

"I don't know," Rachel says now. And she realizes she really does not know what to say to that. "Can you give me some time to think about it?"

"Oh, okay," McPherson says, hardly able to conceal his disappointment. "But don't take too long! I have this feeling if other actors hear about this, they'll pounce on each other for the part! It's a big project, actors will die to sink their teeth in on a Barbara Streisand musical. I know this is like a dream come true for you, so you were the first one I thought of when I heard about this project!"

"Thanks, Mac," Rachel says, softly now.

"You're welcome. Just here helping you make your dreams come true," McPherson says chirpily. "Listen, I've got to go, but let me know as soon as you can what your decision is, okay?"

"Okay."

"Great! And Happy New Year!" McPherson says. "So sorry I haven't been in touch. Let's do lunch, soon!"

They say their goodbyes to each other quickly then Rachel hangs up the phone. She stares off into space for a moment before she decides to go up the stairs into their bedroom. Suddenly, she does not feel like joining Santana and the kids in the kitchen right now.

* * *

Rachel sits by the window sill of their bedroom, pink curtains partially drawn aside, forehead leaning over the cold window as she watches snow drift outside, to the streets below. The city streets covered with a light blanket of snow look pristine, beautiful, somehow, but it also makes her a bit depressed as she looks at the gloomy, slowly darkening, bruised sky.

She replays her conversation with McPherson from earlier. He is right, of course, it is a great comeback vehicle, the kind of project she has been waiting for, perhaps her whole life, to be able to finally star in a musical which features Barbara Streisand music. She feels excitement, pride at the professional validation the call has given her, but at the same time, she feels confusion, anxiety, indecision. She has, after all, Glee Club and teaching and a wedding to plan for and a family to take care of and a child to raise.

She draws up one knee and rests her chin on it as she stares out at the snowy white, gloomy landscape.

It is in this position that Santana finds her in when Santana comes in to their room.

Rachel hears her before she actually sees her coming in. She can hear Santana, Suzie and Kate's footsteps up the stairs, followed by girlish voices and Santana's throaty, authoritative one.

"Open door, Suzie," she can hear Santana say to Suzie now as she hears the kids move off to Suzie's room.

"Aaaw, mom!" she can hear Suzie whine.

"I mean it, Suzie," Santana says now, "Don't make me rip off the door by the shingles."

"Okay, okay," Suzie says. "It's not like we're going to do anything naughty or dirty or anything."

"Open door, Suzie. And not _ajar_, Suzie, door opened _wide_," Santana repeats now, firmly, "You know the rules. We trust you both, but the door stays open at _all times_. Unless you want to be grounded?"

"Okay, okay, mom, sorry," Suzie says, now.

Despite herself, Rachel finds herself smiling. Santana and Rachel had started instituting an "open door policy" since Suzie had made her crush on Kate known and since the girl started coming over to their house. This meant Suzie had to keep her bedroom door open at all times whenever Kate is around, just so her parents can monitor her activities with Kate. They doubt anything naughty will actually happen, but they had to institute the rule to put some measure of order in the house. They had wanted Kate's parents to know that the family is a responsible one that did not take advantage of their trust.

Santana enters now, and sees Rachel by the window, leaning over the glass, staring out at the view outside.

Santana pauses by the door, unsure about what to do or say, then she says, "Hey."

Rachel looks up and smiles. "Hey."

Santana tentatively approaches her, hesitates, before she sits beside her by the window. Santana is silent for a few moments before she speaks up. "You okay? You kind of suddenly left us in the middle of our group sing. Were you too sick and tired of B.O.B. you had to step out?"

Rachel looks at her and smiles. "No, honey. I just…"

Santana waits for her to continue, but Rachel just sighs and looks out the window again. Snowflakes are now drifting out of the window and she watches them float down the window slowly.

Santana knows better than to press her for answers so she sits beside her, puts one leg up, leaning it against the window and looks out of the glass as well.

They sit in front of each other not speaking, for what seems like eternity. Then Rachel speaks up, softly, "Mac called me."

"Okay," Santana says, looking at her. "That's good, right?"

"Yeah," Rachel says, continuing to look out the window. "He says hi, by the way."

Santana smiles. "How is the little prick?"

Rachel laughs softly. "He's fine."

"Okay," Santana says. "Why'd he call? He hasn't called in a while."

Rachel is silent for a few seconds. Then she speaks up. "There's a Barbara Streisand musical in the works over on Broadway. He's been able to secure an audition for me."

"Baby, that's great!" Santana says, excitedly. "I know how much you love Barbara Streisand…! This is like a dream come true for you, right?"

When Rachel does not make a move to answer, Santana says, uncertainly, "That's a good thing, right?"

Rachel turns away from the window to look at Santana, smiles sadly at her. "Yes, it is. But the auditions are at the end of January."

"Oh." As the realization dawns on Santana, Rachel nods her head, relieved Santana understands.

"The Glee Club's quarter finals is at the end of January," Rachel says. "If I pass auditions, rehearsals start February. Show starts in spring."

"Ah," Santana says.

"That's not all. The show might run for a year, it could get extended, plus there's a tour, and a movie in the works, too," Rachel says.

Santana knits her brows. "Oh." Santana is silent for a few seconds. "Does that mean you'll be away for a few months?"

Rachel shrugs. "I don't know, honey."

A vague look of confusion passes through Santana's face now. "Baby, I think this is great and everything, but...what about your work? And the Glee Club? I mean you and your kids have worked so hard to make it to quarter finals. Would be a shame for you to leave them in the middle of all that. And what's going to happen to your classes?"

Rachel sighs and shrugs her shoulders.

"I hate to be a whiny, spoiled little brat, too, but…" Santana speaks now, a little anxious, "But what about us? You know I'd never hold you back or anything, but what about me and Suzie? Suzie mostly. We kind of agreed there has to be someone with her at all times...while she's this young anyway and you know how crazy my hours are…and yours on Broadway used to be just as crazy…I mean you stay up late and sleep late and stuff…"

"I know, honey…"

"And what about our wedding…?"

"I know, honey," Rachel says now.

"And your voice? I mean I know the doctor says it's fine for you to sing again but…"

"I know, San, I know," Rachel says. "Don't you think I know that?"

Santana notices the change in her tone so she softly says, "I'm sorry."

Rachel looks at her now and says, "Oh, honey, _I'm_ sorry. Please don't feel bad. I'm kind of just…confused right now."

She moves now to rest her forehead at a point between Santana's shoulder and neck. Santana's left hand comes up to hold Rachel's head, her other hand goes to Rachel's back, starts rubbing her back rhythmically. Santana kisses Rachel's head, then moves to kiss Rachel's cheek then Rachel moves her head so she can meet Santana's lips in a kiss. Santana kisses her gently, softly. Rachel sighs into her kiss, puts her arms around her, holds her tight.

When they are done kissing and Rachel buries her head on Santana's chest, Santana asks, softly, "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know, honey," Rachel says, voice muffled, after a pause.

She moves nearer and Santana shifts, so Rachel can settle more comfortably between Santana's legs. Santana does not speak, only holds her. Rachel can smell her scent, feel her hair tickle her cheeks, feel her heart beating steadily in her chest, against Rachel's ears. She feels Santana's warmth against her, feels her breath against her hair. Santana does not say anything but Rachel feels secure, reassured, as Santana continues to hold her.

Finally, Rachel sighs and says, "I told Mac I'd think about it. I haven't made my decision. I have to tell him soon, though."

Rachel can feel Santana nodding. "Okay."

"I need time to think anyway," Rachel says.

"Okay."

"Okay," Rachel says, looking up now at Santana and moving to kiss her.

Santana kisses her back before she engulfs her in a hug again.

"How was your day?" Santana asks in a soft voice.

Rachel sighs. "It was okay."

Santana waits for her to supply more information. Presently, Rachel says, "One of my students tried to jump off a building today."

Santana pulls away to look at Rachel. "What? How? Why? What happened? Who?"

Rachel sighs. "Baz. That's why there was a crowd in school earlier, when you picked me up. But I couldn't tell you then because Suzie knows Baz."

Santana nods. "Is he okay?"

Rachel nods back. "Yes. He's under a forty eight hour suicide watch, and the school's providing some guidance and counseling and some professional help. I think he will be okay."

"Are _you_ okay?" Santana asks, still holding Rachel, searching her eyes.

Rachel nods. "Yes. I was kind of…_not_…earlier… We had to talk him down from the ledge…he was feeling down because kids kept teasing him about being slow…and I had to fight off the dizziness and nausea and the nervousness and just…I don't know…I've never had to do that…and I've never experienced having to talk someone I knew down a ledge before."

Santana nods. She brings up her right hand, cups Rachel's cheek with it. Rachel turns slightly to kiss Santana's hand.

Santana's hand lingers on Rachel's cheek as she asks, "You sure you're okay?"

Rachel nods. "Yes." She is silent as she shifts, turns around and rests her back against Santana's chest. Santana puts her arms around Rachel, holds her tightly, plants a kiss on her cheek.

"Good. Wouldn't know what to do without you," Santana breathes now. "Because, you know…you're the whole package, plus you pay your taxes…" she jokes.

Rachel smiles. "What does that even mean?" she asks.

Santana chuckles softly and shrugs. Santana then puts a hand on Rachel's chin, and gently pulls her face towards her and leans over to plant a gentle kiss on Rachel's lips. Rachel accepts the kiss with relief, gratefulness. The room is silent as the kiss they share deepens, Santana's lips and tongue brushing and swiping against Rachel's lips. Santana's kiss makes Rachel's heart lurch a bit as she pulls back, breathless. They are silent for a few moments, watching the snowflakes together.

"Have you ever thought about it sometimes?" Rachel suddenly asks.

"What?" Santana asks.

Rachel is silent for a few seconds before she says, quietly, "Suicide."

Santana is silent. It feels like they have both stopped breathing, as Rachel waits for her answer.

"In high school?" Santana asks, sighing. "No. Maybe I did, a bit. Especially after Finn forcibly outed me. And that stupid politician put me in his stupid campaign video. And my _Abuela_ disowned me. I mean, after all the crap that I'd been through, yeah, maybe suicide would have been a bit more appealing."

Rachel turns her head, looks at Santana. Santana smiles. "But…it wasn't me I was worried about, if I did that. I thought about what my suicide would do to my family, to my mom, my dad, my brother, my cousin, even my _Tia_ Evita. Mostly I thought about what it would do to Brittany. I'd think about Brittany and thoughts of suicide just kind of went out the window. When Brittany passed on, I kind of thought about it a bit maybe… but I had Suzie to think of, too… I think I probably dreamed of killing myself over and over again that time but…"

Santana's voice trails off into silence.

Rachel sighs. "I wish I could have done more that time."

Santana laughs. "Not your fault. No offense, because you dated and stuff, but Finn was kind of an ass."

"I meant…"

"Yeah, baby, I know what you meant," Santana says, smiling, holding her tighter.

Rachel smiles. "But yes, he was that."

"Among other things," Santana says.

Rachel laughs. Rachel holds her close, for want of something better to do. Santana does so, as well.

"Don't feel bad, _Tia_ Evita and my parents kind of threatened to sue that politician's ass for all he's got, for outing a minor on local TV, and we got a nice, nifty settlement out of that," Santana says. "Paid nicely for law school, must tell you. And had enough extra for a new boob job if I wanted to. And apparently, Carlos and Max kind of…cornered Finn once and threatened to beat the living daylights out of him if he didn't man up and do the right thing and apologize."

When Rachel looks at her with a quizzical look on her face, Santana says, "I only found out about it afterwards. And only when I saw this bruise on Max's face and I asked her about it and she said she got it from army combat training. She'd come home right after all that trouble at school and wouldn't say anything. Carlos finally told me she got it when Finn had kind of lunged at her when Carlos had pinned him against a fence or something, out in some back alley and Max kind of kicked him in the balls or something. I don't know. Max had come home soon as she heard from Carlos what Finn did. She got some weekend pass or something from the base. She was so mad. Finn almost got me expelled, so. And he not only outed me, he outed Britt, too. That made Max even madder. She liked Britt. Carlos says she would have shot Finn right then and there, but Carlos had the good sense to force Max to leave her gun at home. Max has a mean temper, so."

Rachel is silent. For the nth time, she does not know what to say.

Santana sighs. "Anyway, we're family, babe," Santana says now. "We take care of our own. I'd have done the same thing had someone done that to my family. To you and Suzie."

When Rachel turns to look at her, Santana says, "Not the beating up someone or something…but you know what I mean…although you know me…I'm _still_ not afraid to cut anyone who ever got between me and mine."

"Is that…is that…why he was singing 'Girls Just Wanna Have Fun' to your face ever so desperately?" Rachel asks now.

"Yeah. Apparently if he didn't pull it off, Carlos and Max would come and make sure he never outs anyone ever again," Santana says. "And yes, that singing was awful. And he was…ugh…following me around like some stupid puppy dog, telling me he was worried I was going to kill myself or something and how he cared or some such shit because I was his _first_… which was kind of weird because I remember him telling me right after we did it that one time that he didn't really _feel_ any different because it didn't _mean_ anything." Santana sighs. "Not too bright, that one."

Rachel laughs. "If you're going to joke about me going out with him in high school, please don't. I've paid my dues."

"It's kind of weird those guys who always slushied us _never_ got expelled," Santana says now, thoughtfully, as if she has not heard what Rachel has just said. "And I get into trouble for slapping the shit out of the guy who outed me."

"San…"

"And it's weird, thinking about it now, how Finn thought he'd done nothing wrong by outing me, when his own stepbrother was bullied for being gay, and his would-have-been father-in-laws were gay, too," Santana continues, looking out the window, a faraway look on her face. "It didn't make sense, you know? Then again, nothing made sense in Lima."

"San…"

"He never apologized you know," Santana suddenly says, looking out the window now, as if seeing the past outside of it. "Never apologized for making my life a living hell that time. For almost ruining Britt's life as well."

Rachel listens, unable to say anything. And because she does not know what to say, she says, "I'm sorry, honey."

Santana looks down at the sound of Rachel's voice, focuses her eyes on Rachel, seems suddenly reminded that Rachel is here with her and she says, "It's fine. I'm over it. High school was hell. The only time it wasn't was when I was in Glee, or with Britt…or making fun of you."

Rachel laughs. "You okay though?"

Santana looks at her, smiles. "Yeah. It was high school. A lot of shit goes down in high school. I wasn't actually a saint either. I do remember, though, you singing 'I Kissed A Girl' to my face right after I was outed and me thinking how odd that was at the time."

Rachel laughs. "Well, remember that time I was singing 'Don't You Want Me Baby' with Blaine in my basement that one time when we all got drunk?" When Santana nods, she says, "And you scream, 'I want you!' over and over again at us? I'm pretty sure you weren't saying that to Blaine."

Santana laughs. "You were the one who gave me your picture senior year. I still don't get why you would give me your picture."

Rachel laughs with her. "You kept it though."

Santana blushes, says nothing.

Rachel grins, and shifts so she can kiss her. "I love you," she says softly and Santana smiles shyly, mumbles it back. As she leans against Santana, she comments, "Also, I just noticed. Max seems to like the girls you go out with."

Santana shrugs. "What can I say? I have taste."

Rachel smiles.

"Will you be okay though, baby?" Santana asks now.

"Yes, I think so," Rachel says. "Thanks for listening. I actually feel better now."

Santana holds her tightly. "Good to know."

"Anyway, whatever decision you make, baby, I'll support you, okay?" Santana says now. "I'm right behind you. And I'm sure we'll work something out. So don't think our present circumstance is going to be a problem should you decide to go back to Broadway, okay?"

Rachel nods. They sit by the window holding each other until Suzie knocks on their door and says, through the door, "Mom…?"

"Yeah?"

"Kate and I are done with homework. Can we go watch TV now?"

"Okay," Santana says, then turns back to Rachel. "Kurt called by the way. He's…wait for it…coming over. Today. Ugh. I'm seriously thinking of having our phone line cut off, or changing zip codes."

Rachel laughs. "Honey! Don't be mean!"

"So not looking forward to seeing your best gay again," Santana says, sighing.

"Aaaw, but I like that you put up with him for me," Rachel says, pulling Santana closer and planting a kiss on her lips.

"Now _that_ is true love," Santana jokes. "I dare you to find anybody else who'll put up with Kurt!"

"Actually, I don't think I can," Rachel says. "You're one of a kind."

Santana laughs. "I know, right?"

Rachel chuckles, then raises an eyebrow. "Cocky much?"

Santana shrugs nonchalantly.

"So, how was _your_ day?" Rachel asks, then settles back comfortably into Santana's arms as Santana begins to recount the events of her day.

* * *

Later, the persistent ringing of the doorbell brings both Rachel and Santana to the door, with Suzie peeking from the living room door to see who it is. Santana had already dropped Kate off at her house earlier.

"Yes, yes, thanks for making sure the doorbell is working," Rachel mutters as she opens the door to reveal Kurt in a frock and a suit and a large furry bag.

When Santana sees Kurt, she says, half-smirking, "Hey, Kurt!"

"Hey, Santana."

"Love your outfit," Santana says.

"Thanks, Santana…"

Before he could finish, Santana turns to Suzie and says, "Quick! Get the crucifix! That's the only way we can repel evil! And that revolting outfit Uncle Kurt's wearing!" She then turns back to Kurt and says, teasingly, "By the power of Christ I compel you!"

To Suzie's giggles, Kurt rolls his eyes. "Nice to see you, too, Santana."

"Your outfit defies all the laws of physics, convention, logic and good taste!" Santana continues. "It's like you're wearing a very expensive white Persian rug on your person under the frock you stole from the set of 'Little Women'. Oh! You should definitely go as a Persian rug next time there's a Halloween party or something!"

Kurt looks at Rachel in disbelief, and demands, "Are you going to let her speak to me like this?"

Rachel smiles as she goes to Santana and puts her arm around Santana's waist. Santana automatically puts her arm around Rachel. "Stop making fun of Kurt, honey," she half-heartedly chides Santana, but with a smile on her face. Santana gives her a toothy grin.

Kurt scowls at Rachel's half-hearted attempt. "Remember when you guys _hated_ each other?" he asks.

"Remember when you guys weren't even friends at all?" Santana retorts.

Suzie comes up to the center of the hallway, watching the adults, and said, "There's this Chinese saying I heard once that I think is perfect for Mom and Mee. It goes, 'The flower that blooms in absurdity is the rarest flower of all'…"

"_Adversity_, honey, not absurdity," Rachel corrects her, smiling, instantly knowing what Suzie is referring to.

Santana grins. "Confucius?"

Suzie shakes her head. "Mulan."

Santana laughs.

Suzie looks at Kurt's outfit, cocks her head and says, "I like Uncle Kurt's outfit."

"See?" Kurt says, triumphantly. "Suzie likes it." He then turns to Suzie and says, "Thank you, young lady. I commend your good taste."

"You're welcome, Uncle Kurt," Suzie says, generously, smiling at him. "You look like a very cute toy poodle with that suit," Suzie says now.

"A very _tall_ toy poodle," Santana adds with a smirk. "And you sound like one, too. It's like you never overcame adolescence or something."

"_Tio_ Carlos says the reason some boys have a high voice is because they're not circumcised yet," Suzie suddenly says. "What does circumcised mean, mom?"

Kurt blushes as Santana and Rachel try not to grin or laugh out loud. "Honey, it's not something you need to concern yourself with at the moment," Santana says now, smiling. Rachel can already guess she will call Carlos later for a very good talking to.

"Although I'm pretty sure Rachel can give you the rundown on circumcision," Kurt offers, recovering sufficiently from what Suzie has said to find his voice. "She's Jewish after all."

Rachel blushes. "Unlike you, Kurt, I don't spend my waking moments trying to check out guys' foreskins," she says, loud enough for Kurt to hear but not loud enough for Suzie to hear, who has lost interest in the conversation once Santana tells her she does not need to concern herself with the word and has gone back to the living room.

Kurt blushes again, closes his eyes for a second then opening them again, clears his throat and changes the subject by saying, "So, I've made my calculations and I think we can get your wedding down to about one hundred thousand dollars and still be able to have a nice, romantic one."

"One hundred thousand dollars?! U.S.?!" Santana asks, incredulous.

Kurt rolls his eyes. "No, _Canadian_. Of course U.S.!"

"I thought you said it was just going to be around fifty thousand dollars?! What are the wedding dresses made of? Gold or something?! Did you get the Pope to marry us?!" Santana demands, annoyed.

"Calm down," Kurt says, calmly. "I based the budget on what you guys decided on from last time. And yes, I ditched the full gospel choir and the band in favor of a D.J. Went with a simple motif for the wedding dresses, the flowers and everything else, and got a good deal for the reception, with a great menu that won't compromise on quality and stuff. I mean, you'll still have the full course meal with entrées and everything! And the wedding cake will still be awesome! It's a conservative estimate and as far as weddings go, very affordable and reasonable."

As Kurt follows Santana and Rachel to the kitchen where Rachel proceeds to clear a space for his binders, Santana asks, with a smirk on her face, "Can we get you anything? Coffee? Tea? A glass of water? A tampon?"

Kurt glares at her, ignores her question and says, "I mean, come on you guys, I don't get what the big deal is, you only get married once anyway."

Santana glares at him.

"Okay, okay, in both of your cases, you _can_ actually get married _more than once_," Kurt corrects himself, "But come _on_, it's a wedding! This is like one of the most important events to plan for! It should be memorable!"

"Yes, like a root canal or an enema is memorable," Santana says, sarcastically.

"Honey…" Rachel says, coming up to her now and putting an arm around her waist. She smiles at Santana and rubs her side in a soothing way. Having been with Santana for five years means she knows how to calm ruffled feathers and she smiles now as Santana turns to her, with a soft look on her face.

"Besides, come on, I'm living vicariously through you guys, just let me have this, will you?" Kurt pleads now, smiling at both of them.

"I'm confused," Santana says, "You're living vicariously through us? Does that mean you've always wanted to be a _lesbian_?"

Kurt rolls his eyes, ignoring her.

"And also, well, we were going over the wedding list and you can't really reduce the price if you're going to have this number of wedding guests," Kurt says, pushing a piece of paper in front of Santana.

Santana looks at the paper, and as she goes over each name, the look on her face gets darker and darker and she says, "We're inviting Finn now? And Jacob Jew-fro? And Jesse St. James? What the hell, Kurt?"

"Well, Finn's kind of my stepbrother…" Kurt says.

"That's right…just _kind of_ your stepbrother," Santana points out, "Your parents divorced remember? So I don't get why he has to be at our wedding. Because yeah, invite the guy we both went out with. _Real_ classy."

Kurt glares at Santana. "Not my fault your love lives are more complicated than a daytime soap, lovebirds."

"Whatever, he's not coming," Santana says.

"Fine."

"And Jacob? And Jesse St. James?" Santana asks. "Explain."

"I kind of run into Jacob and Jesse at separate times and I kind of inadvertently mentioned that Rachel's getting married again and…"

"And so you took it upon yourself to invite them both to our wedding?" Santana asks, annoyed. "Do they even know Rachel's marrying me?"

"Er…not exactly," Kurt says.

"Jesse I get maybe, a little," Santana says, but she turns to Rachel and says, "But he was horrible to you and you know it. In fact, I don't remember any of the guys being nice to you when you were going out with them, Rach. _Including_ your ex-husband," then she turns to Kurt again and says, "But Jacob? _Why?_ The only connection they had was Rachel's panties in sophomore year."

Rachel blushes then she clears her throat. "Uh, Kurt, maybe we have to rethink this inviting random people at my wedding thing. The awkwardness that will ensue before, during or after the wedding is not something I am looking forward to."

Kurt looks from one woman to the other, thinks about it and says, "Fine. I'm sorry. Shouldn't have done that. Will have to rethink the Jacob and Jesse invite then."

"Good, that's settled, now what do you have for us?" Santana asks as Rachel begins to make a pot of coffee for the three of them.

"Well…" Kurt begins as he starts opening binders, takes out his pens, his planner, his post-it notes and his notepads.

They discuss the rest of the wedding plans, with distressing arguments between Santana and Kurt, until it is time for all of them to call it a night.

* * *

Rachel is distracted at school.

She is distracted in class and she is distracted during Glee Club practice. She is thinking of the Barbara Streisand musical that is being planned on Broadway, and the movie that will be planned after and all the singing and acting and emoting that she might be doing should she get past auditions. She thinks about it during her classes, during the intensive practices she has with her students, while they vocalize with her, while they sing the songs, while she argues choreography with them, while she obsessively makes them go over every note until they get each one correctly, with perfect pitch and rhythm, until they know each song, each note, by heart, until they sing with harmony, voices rising and falling like angelic voices come down from heaven. She listens to them and she realizes how much she has missed singing herself. She watches them practice the simple choreography, and realizes she misses dancing herself, misses learning new choreography, misses learning blocking, memorizing paragraphs and paragraphs of lines. Standing in the middle of the stage at the auditorium, with her Glee Club kids, she realizes she misses being on a stage, with a spotlight trained on her, as she sings her solos, misses connecting with the audience, misses the applause, the feeling of euphoria, that addictive sense of achievement she gets every time the curtain falls, knowing that she did a good show and there is a standing ovation and there is a curtain call and the audience wants to see her again. She even misses her name up in lights, her name in the playbill, misses the smell of the theater, the long rehearsals, the camaraderie with the actors, even the egomaniacal directors. She misses it all.

But then she goes to class and teaches her kids and she realizes how much she has come to love teaching as well. She comes to class and realizes how much she has come to love teaching when she feels elation when a student shows progress after months of working on him or her. She loves that her students are taking interest in the classics, for example, and sit, mesmerized as she talks about Anne Frank, shows slides of Anne Frank's life right up to when she dies and what World War II was like with the concentration camps and the gas chambers and the millions of people who died at the hands of the Germans. And when she brings them, after much argument and haranguing Principal Abrams, to an actual museum, the Brooklyn Museum, for some much-needed art-viewing, the students gasp and stare and stand in awe in front of artistic works they would not have seen otherwise. She loves that though students still struggle with it, they do try to speak much more grammatically correctly and can tell the difference between words such as "further" and "farther" and "too", "to" and "two" - a very trivial matter, perhaps, but a very fulfilling one nonetheless. She likes that the students attempt to write badly written, lovesick iambic pentameters for their crushes, supply alternative endings to stories they discuss in class, make dioramas and act out stories in class and have heated debates about which one was better, the book or the movie. It is something quite unexpected, she thinks, that she would find such fulfillment in teaching - something different from when she was in Broadway, which was more artistic than anything. But this, she thinks, teaching, is a whole other experience altogether.

And she looks at her Glee Club kids and finds the same kind of fulfillment there. She realizes why, despite his many faults and his basic inability to teach, coach or otherwise be the mentor that she had wanted him to be, Mr. Schuester had stuck with Glee Club. When normally shy Abdul transforms whenever he sings the Arabic parts of "Desert Rose", turning into a confident young man proud of his Middle Eastern roots, she cannot help but feel proud of him herself. When Kenyatta, who has been subdued and quiet these past few weeks, sing the stanzas of "Killing Me Softly" with her beautiful soprano voice whilst the rest sing the chorus, Rachel cannot help but feel elation at the improvement, at how Kenyatta now has learned to listen to the others, able to blend and make her voice felt at the same time. And Baz, Baz is still here, still getting through the day, and she knows he is back to his old self again because he came to class once with an "I love vagina" tee-shirt that Principal Abrams promptly ask him to take off before second period, and during choreography practices, he is okay enough to shout random things such as "Dance like your vagina is singing!" to the snickers and guffaws of the other kids and the disapproving frowns from her and Gloria. Looking at him, she feels happiness at having helped him a bit. Feels happy as well at how the other kids have changed as well, in regards to Baz, with most of them treating him with much more consideration and respect, with McG and Kareem even offering to tutor him for his classes and for the SATs. He is still going to counseling sessions and the school has offered extra classes for him, to which he seems to be okay with. She cannot bring herself to call him Baz again, and insists now on calling him by his real name, but he insists on being called Baz anyway, says it is fine with him. The other kids had offered to give him a new nickname, but the options ("Shaft!" one kid suggested, "Nemo!" another one suggested, "Sharkbait, hoo-ha-ha!" yet another one suggested) have left much to be desired and everyone has agreed he will be Baz until something better comes along. Ruth is still hanging around Glee Club practice, sometimes, chatting with Amy and Isabelle, or Abdul, or any of the others, but mostly Amy and Isabelle and though Ruth's presence reminds Rachel of her meeting once with Principal Abrams about people who, like Coach Sue Sylvester, are hell-bent on ruining Arts Programs in public schools, Glee Club _does_ remind Rachel of the power of music as well.

She loves the kids' resourcefulness, the way they find ways to recycle old clothes for their costumes, scouring thrift shops for secondhand clothes that they can use for the competitions, with the money they scraped together, Rachel asking donations from friends, the kids holding bake sales at school. When she once brings them to downtown Brooklyn, again, after much argument with Principal Abrams, to watch the Brooklyn Philharmonic, and they sit and watch, open-mouthed, at a diverse group of musicians playing such beautiful, almost heavenly music, she feels this unexplainable, indescribable feeling of accomplishment such that she has not experienced in Broadway before or since and for a fleeting moment, she thinks to herself that she does not mind feeling this more often.

And then there are the teachers and Principal Abrams, a passionate group of underpaid, overworked but equally resourceful people who, she realizes now, are definitely not doing it for the money and definitely doing it for the joy of teaching. Oh, sure, there are teachers who just come to class waiting for the next paycheck, but there are people like Gloria and Mr. Smith, who are really passionate about teaching and about their students.

A few times, she notices a few of the other students and teachers staring at her whilst she walks down the hall or during lunchtime at the cafeteria or break time at the teachers' lounge. Lately, especially after that incident on the ledge on the roof of the main building, she notices more and more of the students and teachers looking at her a certain way. She wonders why the students and teachers are staring at her but then Gloria points out that that look on their faces is not derision, but more respect, admiration. "They think it's awesome you talked someone down a building with _singing_," Gloria says, smiling at her. "I think it's awesome, too. And a number of stories have cropped up about you, they say you spent months saving rainforests in the South American jungle, went soul-searching in the Mojave desert, went on a Tibetan excursion to become one with the universe…you've become some kind of mythical hero or something… You're like the little teacher that _could_. They think you're the coolest teacher _ever_," Gloria teases her. Rachel smiles. She finds it quite interesting that she finds the popularity in Taft High that she never had at McKinley High.

Now that she thinks about it, it is the same look Santana gives her sometimes, when Rachel talks about her work with the kids. Santana has always been very supportive and understanding of her work, on Broadway and in Brooklyn, but she has exhibited more interest in her work at Brooklyn than she ever did with Rachel's work on Broadway. She loves Rachel's singing, has actually taken it for granted that Rachel, her fiancée, is the most talented woman she has ever known. Like everyone else, she feels Rachel was born for Broadway, but Rachel not only surviving Taft High, but also gaining the respect of students and teachers alike, has impressed Santana like nothing else. When Santana looks at her these days, there is such a look of pride in her eyes that Rachel just feels even more validated by it.

But then there is also the crippling paperwork, the quizzes, the tests, the meetings, the assemblies, the red tape, the bureaucracy, the innumerable problems the American public education system has, the random drug busts at school during random locker checks or body searches, the random fistfights at the front yard or in the classrooms…she still thinks it is a bit too much for her born-for-Broadway soul.

And yet…and yet…she loves teaching nonetheless. Could she abandon both - the Glee Club and the teaching in favor of an audition she is unsure she will snag anyway?

And then, there is her new life, too. Her life with Santana and Suzie, the wedding, her marital and domestic _life_. Before they moved in together, a couple of years back, she would have grabbed at the chance to be in a play about Barbara Streisand. This is her life's work, her crowning achievement, and being in a Barbara Streisand play feels like the apotheosis of _all_ plays.

But as Santana has mentioned, she and Santana _did_ agree that whatever happens, however busy they get, they would not let Suzie grow up with either of them always away, that they would make sure she was with either parent at all times. And she loves being a parent, loves being a parent most of all to Suzie. It is one of the most unexpected revelations she has had, that she would find parenting something as fulfilling as singing or teaching, or even more. And though at the moment, she juggles work at Taft High with helping out with Suzie's rehearsals for the play, with the costumes, with bake sales and parent-teacher meetings at Suzie's school, with making sure Suzie has good grades and staying out of trouble, she does not mind it, because she loves all of it. She knows it is a tricky bit, to balance parenthood and a relationship with a career but she seems to have found a nice balance with it. She wants to be there for all Suzie's firsts, first love, first date, first kiss, first prom, even her first heartbreak, engagement, wedding, children, first everything. She is proud of Suzie, proud that though Suzie is not hers by blood, she gets to call Suzie hers as well. Most of all, she loves the absurd domesticity of being Santana's partner, of coming home to know there is someone waiting for her, someone to be there when she sleeps at night, someone to be there when she wakes up, someone to be there even when she is sick or tired or just down in the dumps, someone to hold her during those cold, wintry nights. Knowing that this will be like this for a lifetime fills her with much happiness. High school teaching may not be glamorous, but it has decent hours, vacation and breaks during the summer. Broadway and Hollywood have always been very demanding and that would mean unholy hours, being away on tour, on shoots, on press junkets, promoting and being interviewed, perhaps magazine and television and talk show appearances. But it is only a year, she thinks to herself and she can easily go back to her old life should she be so inclined.

And the wedding…the wedding was something she had always wanted. Marrying Santana was something she had wanted for a long time. Once Santana proposed, she thought everything was perfect and she could not ask for more, but then came McPherson and that offer on Broadway and now she is plunged in confusion and indecision. She could not just abandon the planning to Santana and Kurt could she? If she did, Santana and Kurt would probably end up strangling each other and that is not something she is looking forward to.

Could she balance both her professional life and her personal life? Could she have her cake and eat it too?

Kurt has urged her to grab the chance. After all, a potential starring role in a Broadway musical singing Barbara Streisand tunes is a dream come true, a chance of a lifetime, a _once_ in a lifetime opportunity, and it might never come again. Taft High, Glee Club, _teaching_ will still be there, he argues, once she is done with the show, but a Barbara Streisand musical will not be.

Santana is just ever supportive and says she will follow whatever Rachel decides, says Rachel should do whatever she thinks is best. "Follow your heart," Santana tells her softly, with a gentle smile on her face, "Do what makes you happy."

This is what Rachel is thinking of as she sits in the lobby, outside of the office of the meeting Mac has arranged for her downtown.

The secretary, a well-dressed young woman in red with a bad perm, red nail polish, red lipstick and nice thighs, is going over her facebook account, bored and uninterested, smacking a bubble gum whilst doing so. The office seems hermetic, immaculately clean, new, polished, minimalist, with shiny floors and equally shiny walls. The furniture reminds her of a set from those sci-fi shows and movies Santana makes her watch sometimes during movie night - glass tables in the shape of a liver, egg-shaped, cushioned chairs, a large sign that announces the name of the company in big, bold almost avant-garde letters, people coming in and out of the office with phones permanently stuck to their ears, plastic fern plants and fruits on the table.

Rachel flips through a magazine impatiently as she listens to music on her iPhone.

Whilst she has decided to come for the meeting, her mind is on her Glee Club kids, who have gone with Gloria and Mr. Smith to the quarter-finals without her. Mr. Smith has taken most of the kids in his old, beat-up van, and Gloria has taken the rest in her car. When Rachel starts telling them she cannot go to the competitions, has the kids up in arms, with vehement, incredulous protests, thus, "No offense, Mrs. G, but Miz B you can't leave us now, it's _quarter_ finals!" "Miz B, why?" "Miz B, no!" "We worked our butts off for this Miz B, and you're _not_ coming?!" "Miz B, how could you?" and a host of other statements, it makes it harder, later for Rachel to tell them the truth: that she wants to try and see if she can do Broadway again. Imagining the look of betrayal on their faces, the look that says their Miz B has let them down, is too much for her to bear, and so when they demand to know why she cannot make it, what she tells them instead is that she has a fictitious "doctor's appointment", nothing serious, but it just has to coincide with the quarter finals competition. She has purposefully not told them of the "doctor's appointment" until the last minute, to minimize the damage, but telling them like that, with the kids all worried and concerned and _understanding_ about all of it, feels even worse than if she had not told them at all.

She has gone on leave from school to meet with the producer, to McPherson's delight but sitting here now, all she can think of are her Glee Club kids and how disappointed they looked when she said she could not make it to the quarter finals.

Presently, her phone rings. She looks at it and sees that it is Gloria. She answers the phone and hears Gloria's frantic voice.

"Hey, Gloria," she whispers, "What's up?"

"Rachel! Oh, thank god!" Gloria says, breathing a sigh of relief. "Sorry to bother you, I know you're all tied up, but you've got to help me!"

"What? Why? What's wrong?"

"It's your kids, Rachel…"

"What about them?"

"They're kind of backing out of the competitions," Gloria says. "They're taking off their costumes even as we speak."

"What? Why?" Rachel asks now.

"They're freaking out," Gloria explains, a desperation rising in her voice. "They say they're not good enough for this. They've seen the other clubs perform and it's freaking them out. They say they can't compete with them. They're talking about walking out. I think the last straw was some group named 'Vocal Adrenaline' from Ohio or something…I must say they're _really_ good…"

"But they _are_ good enough!"

"_You_ try telling them that!" Gloria says now, panic evident in her voice. "I tried. They wouldn't listen. Can you come? They're in really bad shape..."

"Gloria…" Rachel says, uncertainly, as she spies the buzzing of the intercom and the secretary leaning over to answer the intercom. She sees the office door open a little as well. The secretary looks up to nod at Rachel. Rachel nods back. "I'm kind of…tied up at the moment…"

"Well, there's still a lot of time anyway, they're on in an hour or so…if you can make it…"

Rachel stands up, and looks towards the door as she nods and says, "I'll try… but I have to go now."

"Rachel…please…I don't know what to do…"

"Gloria, I have to go…"

"Okay, okay, but promise me you'll try to come," Gloria pleads now, through the panic and nervousness and anxiety in her voice. "I can't do this Rachel! I can't conduct for you! You're the one who's good at this! The kids listen to you! You're like their captain or something. I mean, god, this is your _baby_, Rachel, this is your project, and I used to think it was just some club that's just going to die a natural death, but it's still here and you got me so damn _invested_ in these kids, too…!"

She spies the secretary standing, waiting for her by the door, waiting to lead her in so she hastily says goodbye to Gloria, telling her, "I'll see what I can do" before she turns her iPhone off, takes a deep breath, smiles thinly at the patiently waiting secretary and follows her inside the inner office…

* * *

**_Author's end notes:_**

**_That's it for this chapter! Hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for reading and reviewing! Your kind reviews are much appreciated. Also, I've been writing this for four months now, so any kind review will go a long way in encouraging and inspiring me and motivating me. :) Again, as I mentioned, the story is already finished in my head, but work and life just keeps getting in the way! ;)_**

**_Anyway, many thanks for reading chapter 22, too. ;)_**

**_Special thanks to my beta DragonsWillFly for going over this chapter!_**

**_To sammywammy1120 - Thanks for reading and reviewing! Really appreciate it! Hope this update came soon enough! :)_**

**_To SoFlaComet - Glad you liked the Baz and Rachel scene and the family time with Santana, Rachel and the girls. As for the call from Rachel's agent - yes, Rachel is made for the stage isn't she? You'll just have to wait and see what happens next. :) Thanks for reading and reviewing._**

**_To MelovePezberry - Thanks for your review! Re: Baz/H.J., Glee kids and Rachel's dilemma about making her dream come true or hurting the kids - yes, it's a tough decision to make, and one that gives the characters more complexity, makes each one more sympathetic, I think. :) I'm glad you like it. Thanks for sticking with this story! Glad you're still hooked! :) Thanks for reading and reviewing._**

**_To CarolineSC - Thanks for reading and reviewing! As for the return of Kurt - hope this chapter answers that! ;) (These three are kind of addictive to write a scene for! )_**

**_To VickiiMadd - Thanks for reading and reviewing! Re: Barbara Streisand - Yes way! Re: Schue was thinking about leaving the kids for broadway? - A bit, except there's more at stake if Rachel left, I think, only because if Mr. Schue left New Directions, especially during the original Glee kids' run, It wouldn't have mattered since Rachel pretty much ran New Directions. :) As for silly Santana - she's my favorite Santana, too. :) Thanks for the greet re: Happy Belated Halloween btw - spent it writing and taking candy away from kids. :)_**

**_To amazinglife18 - The Baz and Rachel scenes - thanks! And yes, I think Rachel was very nice and kind here. Re: Santana,Suzie and Kate as a marvelous singing group - yes, they're awesome, aren't they? Glad you liked it! Re: A Barbra Streisand musical and the quarter finals - Yes, it's a tough decision to make, I think. :) You probably have to stick around to find out what happens next. :)_**


	24. Quo Vadis, Rachel Berry?

**_Author's note: Team Pezberry! Chapter 24 is up! Thanks for your patience. Hope you enjoy this._**

* * *

"Look, you guys, we should at least stay…Miz B would have wanted that…"

"Miz B would have wanted that? She's not even here!...She _abandoned_ us."

"How can you say that? After all she done for us!"

"Oh, yeah, after all she done for us and now ditching us for quarter finals!"

"Hey, she said she be at the doctor! Ain't her fault she sick!"

"Look, we been through this. Let's be cutting Miz B some slack. She nice and kind and she actually cares for us."

"Yeah, you be the teacher's pet, Baz."

"Hey, what's your problem, man? You gotta a problem with me? You want a piece of me? Huh? Huh?"

"Hey, hey! Put that testosterone away or so help me god I'm going to make you walk from here to Taft High!"

"Sorry, Miz G!"

"Damn that van! It was workin' when we _got_ here!"

"Hey, hey, no dissing The Enterprise!"

"Sorry, Mr. S!"

"We gonna suck, y'all!"

"Our choreography sucks!"

"Two words: Vocal Adrenaline!"

"Even the Dalton gays were good!"

"Dalton _guys_."

"Gays, guys, same difference."

"Homophobe!"

"We not groundbreakin' enough!"

"We not provocative enough!"

"Somebody needs to take off their shirt in the middle of our set!"

"And these costumes ain't helpin'!"

"Hey, we worked hard on those!"

"Toldja we shoulda gone with the Village People concept!"

"Oh, right, leather, tight, tight pants, vests, boots, feathered headgear…how is that _not_ gay again?"

"We on in a few minutes, y'all! Gotta decide now! I be thinking it ain't over til it's over."

"Isn't_, and I said it before, and I'll say it again, yes, that's a bit gay, but what did I say about homophobic slurs? No Village People costumes, And _no_ stripping, those costumes are great and yes, you guys _are_ good enough, and you're not going to _suck,_ okay?..."_

* * *

Rachel's sudden appearance at the quarter finals is met with surprise, shock, relief, happiness and excitement as they all gather around her, behind the stage, saying, "Miz B!" "We thought you weren't coming!" "You okay? We thought you sick!" "What did the doctor say?" "Those other teams are way better than us, Miz B!" "We gonna suck!" "We can't do this!" "We ain't good enough…I mean, _isn't_…" "_Aren't_. We better just go home, Miz B, save ourselves the humiliation and embarrassment!" "They be laughin' at us!"

Rachel looks at her kids, and Gloria and Mr. Smith, all crowding around her, with that hopeful look on their faces, and she realizes she is glad she made it in time before the kids made any drastic decisions. As they look at her, waiting for her to speak, she takes a deep breath and as she starts speaking, they lean over to hear her over the loud singing in the background.

"First of all, I am alright, the appointment was fine, thank you for asking. Now what is this I'm hearing about you guys backing out after all the hard work you've put in this and saying you're giving up?"

When the kids start speaking up, she holds up a hand and says, firmly, "I don't want to hear it…"

"But…"

"I said I don't want to hear it," Rachel says, even more firmly. Something in her tone makes the kids shut up as she says, "I know I said I'm all for democracy and having everyone have their say, but today I'm overriding that rule."

"Miz B…"

"No buts," she says, impatiently. She closes her eyes, takes another deep breath, as she fights the tension, anxiety and nervousness she feels right now. She can hear her heart pounding against her chest, but whether it is just from being psyched at being here, or because she just realized she is _here_, instead of at the Barbara Streisand musical audition she does not know. There is a vague regret, coupled with slight hyperventilation, she feels now that she also tries to ignore and push down. It reminds her of those times when the New Directions kids experience occasional bouts of insecurity, self-doubt and anxiety, agonizing over how yet another performance could affect their reputation and popularity right before every single performance they have. In fact, she remembers being the person always rallying the other kids on, sometimes with liquor, sometimes with speeches, but she finds that she is pretty good at it, especially since Mr. Schuester has always been incapable of doing so himself. In fact, Mr. Schuester seems good only for writing the theme on the board every single week of her life in Glee.

One of the reasons she had developed a grudging respect for Santana Lopez in high school was Santana's confidence and her insane need to be better than everyone else. This is a respect that eventually turned into a vague fondness, a fondness that made her give the other woman a high school picture of hers before graduation because if truth be told, she was being sentimental at the time and saddened that she had not taken the time to know more about Santana and the other members of the club that she had spent most of her high school life with and who had, inadvertently, turned into the only friends she ever had in high school. They are a bit alike, Santana and Rachel, and also so different from each other, that is probably why that grudging respect and fondness has blossomed into feelings that have deepened, evolved, turned into something different, something else entirely. Quinn marveled at this once, how quite compelling they are as a couple, and how good they have actually turned out to be for each other. Rachel realizes she is right.

She looks now at her kids and she can see that genuine "not-good-enough" look on their faces, that fear of failure and rejection, embarrassment and humiliation, and so she says, firmly, loudly, "Do you always want to give up every time the going gets tough? Is this how you want your life to be defined? Is this what you want people to view you as? As losers and quitters?"

"We gonna lose, Miz B. We don't wanna let you down."

"I don't care. I can accept failure," she says, "Everyone fails at something. But what I can't accept is not even trying."

The kids are silent as they take this in.

"Nobody hears about those people who never tried _at all_," Rachel points out. "You either hear about those people who succeeded, or _died_ trying."

They can hear the crowd erupt in applause as yet another choir finishes their set. The host announces the next team and it is only a few seconds before they realize the host has called out "Brooklyn Beatz". The crowd claps politely as they wait for the team to come on.

A PA comes up to them and announces that they are next. Rachel nods to the PA and something in Rachel's expression makes the PA take a step back, biting back the pushy statement she is supposed to say to Rachel's team about hurrying up and getting on with it.

"And as long as you tried, nothing else matters," she resumes, after glaring at the PA, turning back to the kids, who are listening to her intently. "Now get out there and have fun and show them why we're number one!"

Baz speaks up for the first time after Rachel finishes speaking and rallies the others, saying, "Yeah! We can do this! Let's show 'em what we got!"

Kareem and McG join him and Jamal and Anferny follow and before she knows it the other kids are all riled up and psyched.

"Lose the costumes, if you like," Rachel instructs them now. "You have no time to put them back on anyway and get out there!"

The kids nod and quickly remove their costumes before filing out single file onto the stage. Jamal is carrying a guitar, Kareen a makeshift beatbox. The girls are all on the right, the boys all on the left, making up two rows of singers, standing close together, somber and solemn.

Gloria and Mr. Smith come up to her before she follows the kids out.

Rachel smiles. "Sorry I'm late. Traffic!"

"Oh, thank god, you're back!" Gloria breathes. "I cannot begin to tell you how stressed I am! This was almost as nerve-wracking as that time we were trying to decide whether to get my tubes tied or not!"

Even as she tries to prepare herself for going on stage herself, she manages to make a face at Gloria's remark, softening it with a smile as she does so.

"Nice speech. Sounds familiar though. A Rachel Berry original?" Mr. Smith mutters now.

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Except for that bit that Michael Jordan once said about not accepting not trying, yes, everything else is a Rachel Berry original. Leave me alone."

"Nice." Mr. Smith grins. "Good luck."

She smiles and nods as she goes to the stage. There is complete silence as the audience wait for Rachel to start conducting and for the kids to start singing. As she turns her back on the audience, she flexes her fingers, lifts her arms up, so it is level with her shoulders, looks at Kenyatta and nods at her. Kenyatta nods back at her as Rachel nods to the others, who start humming softly. Over the sound of the other kids humming softly, Kenyatta's voice rises, like the sun rising over the mist, as she starts singing,

"_Strumming my pain with his finger_

_Singing my life with his words_

_Killing me softly with his song_

_Killing me softly…with his song…_

_Telling my whole life, with his words…_

_Killing me softly…with his song…"_

Kareem sits on the beat box, beating his hands in time to the rhythm of the song, and the other kids start bobbing their heads, swaying their bodies from side to side, raising their hands up and down, in unison - the simplest choreography they came up with, because the kids had agreed it was all about the music, and not the choreography.

Maybe it is Rachel's presence, maybe it is the fact that the audience responds to Kenyatta's strong, clear soprano and the club with an appreciative round of applause, but it gives Kenyatta and the others the necessary push, the encouragement and confidence they need as they continue with the song. Buoyed by applause, the kids seem more confident as they raise their voices, and sing the song with perfect pitch and harmony.

By the time Abdul steps forward to start singing the Arabic lines of "Desert Rose", while the rest of the club face him, listening to him sing, the audience are at the edge of their seats, watching the kids sing their rendition of Sting's song. As their voices start softly, then rise above the silence as the song progresses, the audience gives them another round of enthusiastic applause.

"_I dream of rain_

_I dream of gardens in the desert sand_

_I wake in vain_

_I dream of love as time runs through my hand…_"

As Rachel gestures to the group, motioning for the girls on the left to sing the next stanza, then the boys to sing the stanza after, hears the applause, she feels the adrenaline, the excitement, feels her own spirit rise, feels the nervousness, the anxiety, melt away and she smiles. Performance is her life, she realizes, and whether she is the one singing, or conducting, as long as the music is there, the applause is there, she knows she can do anything. She nods at the kids, knowing the kids deserve the applause they are receiving now. The kids smile back at her, gaining more confidence as each line is sung.

"_I dream of fire_

_Those dreams are tied to a horse that will never tire_

_And in the flames_

_Her shadows play in the shape of a man's desire…"_

"_This desert rose_

_Each of her veils, a secret promise_

_This desert flower_

_No sweet perfume ever tortured me more than this…"_

The audience applauds as they finish the song, the kids' voices fading out, softly. When the applause dies out, Rachel nods to her kids as they prepare for their last song, Bob Marley's "Redemption Song". Jamal brings out the guitar, places his feet on the beatbox and starts strumming the acoustic version of the first strains of "Redemption Song" as Kareem starts to beat the box.

Rachel gestures with her equally expressive hands and the girls start singing the first stanza in soft, slow, solemn, reverent voices, bodies swaying from side to side in simple harmony.

"_Old pirates, yes, they rob I,_

_Sold I to the merchant ships,_

_Minutes after they took I_

_From the bottomless pit._

_But my hand was made strong_

_By the 'and of the Almighty._

_We forward in this generation_

_Triumphantly…"_

The voices of the girls speed up, change tempo, become bright, staccato, their facial expressions reflecting the upbeat change in tempo.

"_Won't you help to sing_

_This songs of freedom_

_'Cause all I ever have,_

_Redemption songs,_

_Redemption songs…"_

At the end of the stanza, their voices fade and stop as Rachel gestures for them to cut and the boys take over for the next one, voices certain and clear as they sing the lines in a strong, rich blend of tenor and bass voices.

"_Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery;_

_None but ourselves can free our minds._

_Have no fear for atomic energy,_

_'Cause none of them can stop the time._

_How long shall they kill our prophets,_

_While we stand aside and look? Ooh!_

_Some say it's just a part of it:_

_We've got to fullfil the book."_

The boys and girls come together for the rest of the song, voices upbeat and loud.

"_Won't you help to sing_

_This songs of freedom-_

_'Cause all I ever have,_

_Redemption songs,_

_Redemption songs,_

_Redemption songs…"_

There is an elegance to the simplicity of the arrangements, the singing, the kids' voices rising and falling in perfect harmony, smooth and flowing like spring rain falling on an April summer's day.

As the voices turn soft and slow and become solemn and reverent as their voices fade and cease, bringing the song to a close.

There is a pregnant pause as Rachel nods and smiles, seeming to say, "You did well" before she turns, takes a few steps, and with her club, take a bow.

As they bow, the audience explodes into riotous round of applause, with a few wolf whistles and shouts of glee. She spies Gloria jumping up and down in jubilation even as she sees Mr. Smith clapping vigorously and grinning like he just ate the canary.

The kids file out of the stage to the audience clapping and as they re-join Gloria and Mr. Smith backstage, Gloria says, excitedly, "You guys were terrific!"

Mr. Smith moves to pat Rachel on the shoulder, but then looks like he remembers something, and instead, withdraws his hand and says, "Yes, you guys were, as the kids say nowadays, da bomb!"

Rachel rolls her eyes and says, "Thanks, Mr. Smith."

Mr. Smith leans over and says, "So worth it to have ravaged the Enterprise just to see these kids sing!"

Rachel looks at him with a puzzled look on her face.

Gloria explains, "He kind of took something out of the van to make it seem like it's not working or something."

"Ah," Rachel says, a look of understanding on her face. "Nice one."

"I know, right?" Gloria says, grinning.

"Rachel Berry," a voice from behind says and Rachel turns around to see Jesse St. James standing behind them, in a power suit, the trademark perpetual smug look plastered on his face.

"Jesse St. James," Rachel says, turning around and donning feigning tight smile when she recognizes the voice. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Small world," Jesse says, keeping the smug smile on his face.

Gloria and move a discreet distance away to let the two speak.

"Yes, really small world," Rachel says, inwardly telling herself how small a world it really is. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here representing ShoMax 23 Studios."

When Rachel does not register any recognition for the studio, Jesse rolls his eyes. "It's the cable company that produces 'True Delights'. They're under Sony Music, so. I really don't know what I'm doing here . I don't care much for these things."

When Rachel still does not say anything, Jesse says, "I'm a star on 'True Delights'. I play one of the vampires that sparkle."

"Ah," Rachel says, although if truth be told, she honestly does not remember seeing him during those times when she actually watched it with Santana that one time.

"Well, I'm kind of guest starring for a few episodes, but they might make me a regular soon," Jesse explains.

Rachel cannot begin to say how much she really does not care for all this, but Jesse seems oblivious, and he just continues by saying, "I'm surprised you don't know. I auditioned the same time as Kurt. But I don't think he got in. I heard he wasn't fairy enough to pull off playing a fairy. Which I think is hilarious."

"I thought he was auditioning to be a witch?"

"Witch, bitch, fairy, whatever, it's all the same, isn't it? Anyway, I don't think he's bitchy enough to be a witch, too," Jesse says. "So sorry to hear that your engagement got called off by the way," Jesse says, trying to look sympathetic, but actually looking like he is gloating. "Kurt told me."

Because, of course, Kurt would tell him. Rachel is just relieved he is uninvited to the wedding and so neither she nor Santana would see his smug face among the wedding guests.

A round of applause mercifully cuts the moment with Jesse, which is excruciating enough as it is, and she mumbles something about having to rejoin the kids, making sure she does not have to explain what she is doing here in the first place, coaching a Glee Club, when most friends and acquaintances assume she is still singing and starring on Broadway. For the nth time she wonders why she went out with this guy.

She catches the tail end of the host's announcement and she turns around, as if she is hearing things, but no, she has not. It _is_ New Directions. Singing. On the stage. She knows this because she can spot Mr. Schuester on the wings, doing his trademark, swaying from side to side, hand over his heart, beating on his chest in time to the music, face looking like it is about to weep any moment now. She briefly wonders why all these clubs from Ohio are here, but then remembers that there were auditions and eliminations held in other places as well, and that the last clubs standing where the ones performing for the quarter finals now.

She just hopes she does not have to either see or talk to either Mr. Schuester or Finn, as that would be more awkward, excruciating and infuriating as seeing Jesse St. James again. New Directions does its trademark set list: yet another Journey song, "Open Arms", another forgettable Katy Perry song, and they round it up with a Justin Bieber song. Mr. Schuester and Finn have never been bastions of culture and taste and so of _course_ they would choose these songs, she thinks to herself, rolling her eyes. What are the odds, she briefly wonders to herself, as she watches the rough choreography and the less than stellar vocals, that they only practiced this particular set only last night? She briefly wonders _why_ she went out with Finn all those years ago as well.

The rest of the competitions go by without a hitch, with her luckily being able to avoid Jesse, Mr. Schuester and Finn Hudson.

* * *

After much waiting, the host announces that Vocal Adrenaline, Dalton, New Directions, Brooklyn Beatz and a few others have qualified for the semi-finals. Rachel is both relieved and happy about this.

As the kids do celebratory fist pumps, chest bumps, delighted squeals, up and down jumping and screaming, in front of the Convention Center that is now filled with other high school kids from other schools filing into yellow buses and vans and taxis, herded by belligerent, beleaguered teachers, Rachel cannot help but smile at the scene. This takes her back to high school all over again. She is glad though that she is spared the awkwardness of having to talk to ex-boyfriends and Mr. Schuester in the parking lot.

She watches, shivering, as the kids automatically push the van out of the parking lot that is filled with sludge and snow, Mr. Smith behind the wheel, shouting instructions at the kids as Kenyatta and the others stand around, rolling their eyes, disbelief and incredulity on their faces. Gloria suddenly comes up behind her and comments.

"That van is in an even worse condition than we thought," Gloria says.

Rachel shakes her head. "Yes, I can see that."

"You coming to school?" Gloria asks now.

"Uh, don't think so," Rachel says as she hears her phone buzzing in her bag.

She rummages in her bag for her phone and sees that it is Santana. Instantly, Rachel remembers that tonight is date night and that Santana had already made reservations at some fancy restaurant, having been able to force an unwilling Kurt into babysitting Suzie for them.

"Hey, babe," Santana says as soon as Rachel answers the phone. "How was auditions? We still on for tonight, yeah? Where are you now? Where do I pick you up?"

Rachel sighs as the van comes to life and she spies the kids running after it as it chugs down the road. She waves at the kids once they get into the van and watches as it careens down the road. She shakes her head and rolls her eyes. She spies Gloria and her car following the van and waves at Gloria and the kids.

"The auditions were okay," she says.

"Great!" Santana says. "Listen, I can't talk right now. I'm in the car and I know how much you hate it when I use my cellphone in the car, so just quickly tell me where you are and I'll come pick you up."

If Santana is surprised that Rachel gives the address of the Convention Center downtown and that she will wait for Santana at the coffee shop across the street, Santana does not show it, and instead says, "Great, I'll be there in a few. Love you."

Rachel barely says the words "I love you" back before Santana has turned off her cellphone and Rachel sighs again, puts her phone in her bag, looks both ways, crosses the street and waits for Santana inside the coffee shop, ordering a hot cup of coffee while doing so.

* * *

True to her word, Santana's red Honda appears a few minutes later, Santana in her trademark suit and long dark hair behind the wheel, happy to see her and excited for the first decent date night they have had in months.

They go to a Korean restaurant downtown called "Red Dragon". Korean food is one of the few things Santana and Rachel agree on when it comes to food - as they serve spicy meat and vegetable dishes with a generous helping of different kinds of kimchi-inspired appetizers. Tina had introduced them to Korean food a few years ago and the couple has been eating Korean food whenever they can. Santana orders the _samgyeupsal_ meat dish served with lettuce and rice and some spicy chicken whilst Rachel orders the vegetarian kimbab and spicy soup with tofu. After they order, their waiter comes back with their appetizers, and the spoons and forks Rachel requested as she and Santana still struggle with chopsticks. Rachel smiles and thanks him with the one of the few Korean phrases that Tina had taught her: "_Kamsahamnida_". The waiter smiles and says, "You're welcome."

The restaurant has a simple, but distinctively Asian interior design, the colors of the walls, tables and chairs decidedly earthy in tone, with a little postmodern avant garde look to the place. The couple takes the discreet seat at the back, hidden by fortune plants and the high wooden dividers that separate each table from each other.

As they dig into the various appetizers, Rachel feels Santana's right arm automatically snake into Rachel's waist, even as she feels her left hand automatically putting itself on Santana's right thigh as they start eating whilst waiting for their orders.

Santana leans over to Rachel. "How did your auditions go?" Santana asks now as she stabs a small potato with her fork and pops it into her mouth.

Rachel shrugs. "It was okay," she says evasively as she tries some sliced kimchi radish.

Santana stops now, while in the middle of putting the food in her mouth and says, "What do you mean, okay? Did you get in or what?"

As Rachel does not answer, Santana rolls her eyes, "Well, come on. The suspense is killing me."

Rachel sighs as she looks at Santana.

"You didn't…ditch the auditions, did you?" Santana asks, carefully. "I mean, I thought you'd decided to do the auditions, just to see if you still have it…I was kind of confused you were at the Glee Club competitions actually."

Rachel takes a bite of some spinach, chews slowly and swallows before she looks at Santana and answers, "No, I didn't ditch auditions."

Santana waits as Rachel continues. "I finished auditions. It was okay. But I kind of had to leave in the middle of the interview I was having with the producer, Bob, because Gloria called me at the last minute and told me the kids were bailing on the contest because they saw Vocal Adrenaline perform and were freaking out."

"Wait, hold up," Santana says, putting her fork down, knitting her eyebrows and looking at Rachel. "You _left_ in the middle of auditions?"

Rachel puts her fork down and looks back at Santana. "Well, technically, I _finished_ auditions. I ditched the _interview_. But…uh…when you put it like that…"

As they look at each other for a few seconds, Rachel suddenly puts her hands on her forehead and says, "Ohgodohgod_ohgod_…I _left_ in the middle of auditions…! To a Barbara _Streisand_ musical! What have I _done_?!"

The tension, anxiety, nervousness and regret she has been trying to push down since she realized, in the middle of giving her Glee kids a pep talk, that she had left in the middle of her interview to help the Glee kids, comes out full force and she feels it rise up and explode out of her, making her hands clammy, her heart pound painfully against her chest, her breathing uneven. She is hyperventilating.

"Ohgodohgodohgod," she says again, in quick succession, between heavy breaths. "I just let the greatest opportunity that would ever come to me slip out of my fingers!"

Her chest is tight, as if there is something in her chest, in her throat, as she gasps for breath.

"But I couldn't just _abandon_ my kids!" she whisper-whines as she tries to breathe.

Santana immediately springs into action. She is not a stranger to Rachel's panic attacks and she whips out a paper bag she has in her bag for just such occasions. Rachel gives her a brief puzzled look as Santana hands her the paper bag and Rachel starts breathing into the paper bag, even as Santana starts to rub her back and says, softly and gently, "Breathe, baby. _Breathe_. Take it easy. Just listen, focus on the sound of my voice…In and out, baby. In and out…that's it…in and out…"

She nods, concentrates on the sound of Santana's voice, low, husky, gentle, _loving_, her breath on Rachel's ear. She also focuses on her own breathing and finds her breathing slowly steadying itself, feels her heart slow down to its normal rhythm, feels the tightness in her chest uncoil itself. As she breathes in and out, in and out, she takes a look at Santana, who gives her a loving, understanding smile and tucks a stray hair of Rachel's behind her ear.

Rachel surreptitiously looks around and is relieved that no one has noticed her almost mini-nervous breakdown. She slowly puts the bag down and straightens her back. She smiles sheepishly at Santana, embarrassed, tries to clear her throat. Santana smiles back at her.

"Hey. You okay?" Santana asks softly, concern and worry in her intense, dark eyes.

Rachel smiles weakly. "I'm sorry," she manages to croak out.

"Aw, baby, it's fine," Santana says, still smiling.

"You must think I'm such a diva, right?" Rachel says with a trembling smile.

Santana grins and teasingly says, "Baby, I've _always_ thought you were a diva."

Rachel looks at her.

"But you are _my_ diva and you're all mine," Santana continues with a grin. "I'm sure you were…_fine_."

Rachel makes a face. "I wasn't just _fine_," she says, indignant. "I was _extraordinary_."

Santana laughs. "And you are, baby. You _always_ are." She squeezes Rachel. "Welcome back."

Rachel grins. "I walked right into that, didn't I?"

"You sure did," Santana says, laughing, wriggling her eyebrows. "Takes me back to high school when all you ever wanted us to do whenever you sang each and every solo imaginable was, for us to tell you that you were either great, or _extraordinary_." Santana rolls her eyes. "Good times, good times."

Rachel smiles. Santana reaches for Rachel's hands, encloses them with her own, rubs them together and blows on them and says, "God, your hands are cold."

When Rachel does not say anything, Santana only grins and plants a kiss on her cheek. "Bet you nailed your audition. Bet you got in."

Rachel is quiet, shrugs, then says, "I don't know. They said they'd call, so."

Santana nods her head, says nothing. They are quiet for a few moments.

"Bet you regaled them with your insane, disturbing, faintly stalker-ish, fangirlish amount of information on Barbara Streisand," Santana teases her.

Rachel smiles and frowns. "Hey."

"Sorry, but it's true," Santana says, grinning. "You made me watch 'Funny Girl' like a _thousand_ times. And 'The Prince of Tides'…and 'The Mirror Has Two Faces'. And some other stuff I barely remember." Santana makes a face each time she mentions each movie. "That's how many hours of my life I can never get back."

Rachel laughs. "I thought you liked them. You never said anything when we were watching them."

"Was me rolling my eyes all the time, and sulking in silence not enough?" Santana asks, smiling.

"Aw, come on, it wasn't _that_ bad," Rachel insists.

"Yeah, what's bad is you turning me into a Barbara geek," Santana points out, smirking. "Isn't it enough that even _Suzie_ digs Barbara Streisand now?"

"Hey!" Rachel protests. "You said you liked 'The Mirror Has Two Faces'. And I already know you like The Phantom of the Opera's 'All I Ask of You'. I mean you _chose_ my audition song."

"Well, that movie is kind of nice and that song is, too. And you sing it so beautifully," Santana says, quietly, voice trailing off, a flush slowly spreading on her face. Santana is quiet for a few moments. "And if you ever tell anyone, especially Kurt, I'll deny it."

Rachel laughs some more, feeling the tension, anxiety and panic flow out of her. She looks at Santana and smiles gratefully.

"Hey, you made me watch the 'Star Wars', 'Star Trek' and the 'Godfather' trilogy, like, so many times," Rachel points out. "Among other things."

Santana laughs. She looks around, sees no one looking, and leans over to plant a quick kiss on Rachel's lips.

"They're going to call, okay? I mean you finished the auditions anyway. That's what matters. That's _all_ that matters," Santana says. "You are, after all, Rachel freaking Berry. And if they don't call, then it's their loss, not yours, okay? Give it time."

Rachel sighs. "Okay. That's what Mac said, too, when he called today. There are a lot of other actors auditioning for the musical, so it could take time and the script's not final yet and they're getting clearance over the rights for the songs and stuff, so…" She stops, looks at Santana and says, "Thank you, San."

They look at each other and Santana runs a hand on Rachel's cheek. Santana gazes at her for a few moments before she breaks away and picks up a fork. Santana grins. "Anytime, babe. Anytime."

Rachel smiles. She puts her right hand over Santana's hand, the one holding onto her waist. There is something comforting about Santana's nearness, something reassuring, Santana's love for her as steady and solid as rock.

"What do you think is _their_ story?" she asks Rachel now, with a half-smirk on her face, as she settles back down on the seat, pulling Rachel nearer to her.

Santana now motions with her head to a couple a few feet away, across the room, eating dinner by one of the windows. It is a game they sometimes have during date night, making up stories for the other couples having dinner at any restaurant they happen to be in. Now, Rachel looks over at a yuppie-looking man in his twenties with a rumpled suit and tousled, sandy brown hair earnestly talking to the bored-looking young woman across the table who is trying her best to listen to him.

"Third date," Rachel says. "Not going pretty well. First date was good, second date was bad, and the girl's just giving him a second chance. From the looks of it, I don't see a fourth date in their future."

Santana smiles, putting on a surfer dude accent, imagining what the guy is saying. It reminds Rachel a bit of that sea turtle in "Finding Nemo". "I'm a pretty self-defecating guy. I mean, when people ask me, what do you look for in a woman? I say, I know a lot of people say brains? But I'd like to go with breast size."

Rachel laughs. "That's almost as bad as constipating yourself from mental slavery," she points out.

Santana laughs, remembering what Rachel has recounted about her Glee kids. She gestures with her head to a younger couple near the yuppie guy and his date. "That one seems more interesting. Dating since forever, _big_ Taylor Swift fan, has a poster of Taylor Swift and a birdcage because, sometimes, you kind of are, like, in a 'Taylor Swift holding a birdcage kind of headspace', okay? " she says, donning a California valley girl accent as she imagines what the girl is talking about, "I'm like, whatever? And she was like, whatever? And I'm like, oh my god, no way and she was like, yeah…?"

Rachel smiles and joins in, pretending she is the other person. "Aw, no way!"

Santana grins, still using the accent, "Yes, way! And like, she was like, who do you think you are? 'Cause, like, you're not! Put me in, like, your shoes sometimes! Because sometimes, you don't have, like, shoes…! And she was like, what-freaking-ever! And I'm like, how dare you? And there was this one time…at band camp…"

Rachel chuckles. She turns her head and gestures towards an old Asian couple eating their food with chopsticks. "What about them?"

Santana grins and says, "Married since the civil war. Haven't had sex since the Truman administration. Old guy has a kinky thing for 1920s lingerie." Rachel giggles as Santana gamely puts on an old woman's voice, "Go easy on the beans! You know that gives you gas! I don't want to be stuck with you in the car while you're passing gas!"

Rachel makes a face and giggles as Santana snickers. Encouraged by Rachel's giggles, Santana continues, switching to an old man's voice, "What I would give for an enema!"

Rachel giggles some more before she spies two women on the other side of the restaurant, talking earnestly to each other, as one of them gestures with her fingers.

"Oooh, easy! Lesbians. U-haul on the third date. Both vegetarians. Trying to save the dolphins. Bet you one of them is wearing birkenstocks and boxers," Santana says, with a mischievous glint in her eye. "They're talking about how many fingers to use," Santana continues, winking, as she tries a high-pitched feminine voice, "One or two! Or three! But ask first! And ask nicely!"

When Rachel laughs some more, Santana says, "Or maybe they're talking about boobs!" She then changes her voice and says, "Now be honest, which is bigger, the left or the right breast? Which do you like the best?"

Rachel laughs now and grabs Santana's hand, the one holding her at the waist, looks at her and smiles, as she puts her head on Santana's shoulder, perfect contentment on her face. Santana takes hold of Rachel's left hand and puts it to her lips, kissing the back of her hand quickly before she sets it back down on Rachel's lap. They share a look and a smile for a few moments, broken by the crash of something in the kitchen and they break away from gazing at each other.

Presently, a member of the staff comes and serves their orders. The two women reluctantly break away from each other to start eating. The two eat their dinners, Santana recalling her day at the law office, whilst Rachel recounts a bit more about what happened at the auditions, convinced that she _did_ actually nail it, and the Glee competitions itself that had transpired earlier. After they finish their dinner, Rachel orders green tea and Santana orders coffee to Rachel's disapproving look.

"Wow, Vocal Adrenaline," Santana comments, sipping her steaming cup of brewed coffee with relish, after Rachel mentions that old high school rival Vocal Adrenaline was at the competition. "Didn't know that was still a thing."

"And you'll never guess who else is there," Rachel says, as she takes a sip of her green tea. When Santana looks at her with a questioning look on her face, Rachel says, "Dalton and New Directions."

Santana makes a face.

"Yes," Rachel says. "I saw Jesse St. James. And Finn. And Mr. Schuester."

"Seriously?" Santana asks.

"Yes," Rachel says with a vigorous nod of her head. "Apparently Jesse is in that show, 'True Delights'. He's playing one of the sparkling vampires."

Santana rolls her eyes. Rachel knows Santana is as equally unimpressed by sparkling vampires as she is unimpressed by Jesse St. James.

"That's what I was thinking," Rachel says, grinning.

Presently, Rachel's phone buzzes and she checks it and sees that it is Kurt with an all caps message thus, "WHERE ARE YOU?!"

Santana sees the smile on Rachel's face and asks, "Who's that?"

Rachel looks up and smiles, "Kurt. Asking where we are. And when we'll be home. By the looks of it, I guess Suzie is either giving him a hard time, or giving him a hard time."

Santana chuckles. "Okay."

Rachel smiles back at her.

Santana's face grows serious now. She then clears her throat and says, hesitantly, "We…have to talk about the wedding."

When Rachel's raises her eyebrows, Santana continues, still a little hesitantly, "Or more specifically, the wedding plans that Kurt is doing for us."

"What about it?" Rachel asks as she sips more of her green tea.

"Last time I checked, Kurt has our wedding at around two hundred _thousand_ dollars," Santana says. "I mean, I'm all for a nice, awesome wedding. I know you'd want that and I have nothing against it because if it makes _you_ happy, then it makes _me_ happy. But that money's enough for a down payment on a new house. Or feed an entire African country. Or possibly two."

Rachel sets her teacup down, looks at Santana for a moment, before she says, cautiously, "Wait, what are you saying? Are you saying…?"

"No, no," Santana quickly says, shaking her head. "That's not what I meant…I just meant…it feels a little like it's getting out of hand. We've gone from one hundred guests to three hundred or so, with possibly a string quartet, a singer and so on…"

When Rachel says nothing, Santana continues, "It feels a little…overwhelming…is all…"

"I'm saying it all wrong," Santana says, voice trailing off. "It's just…"

Rachel grabs Santana's hand, squeezes it reassuringly and says, "You don't need to worry about that. It's going to be okay, okay? If it gets too much, we pull the plug on this thing and bail, okay?"

Santana grins. "You mean that?"

"Yes."

Santana sighs in relief and squeezes her hand back. "And seriously, do we really want Bette Midler's 'Wind Beneath My Wings' as our wedding song? And I don't want 'Muskrat Love' either! Can our wedding get any gayer than it already is?"

Rachel laughs. "I'm so sorry. I'll tell Kurt to take it down a notch or two."

Santana smiles in relief. "Did I tell you already how much I love you?"

Rachel grins. "Yes. But I don't mind hearing it all the time."

Santana smiles as she moves to nuzzle behind Rachel's right ear, whispering the words softly, as Rachel feels herself blush a bit, feels a tingle where Santana's breath blows on her skin, lips brushing lightly against the tip of her ear.

She looks at Santana, smiles and whispers the words back.

* * *

They arrive at Greenburg Hill Gardens before ten that night to a tired, exasperated Kurt and a sleeping Suzie.

"Hey, Kurt," Rachel and Santana both greet Kurt as he opens the door, eyes bleary and movements sluggish as he closes the front door behind him.

"Hey," Kurt says.

"Had a great time?" Santana says, with a smirk on her face.

"Honey," Rachel says to Santana, with a warning tone in her voice, even as she shakes her head. She looks at Kurt. "You okay? You look terrible."

"Yeah, you look like an ad for constipation," Santana jokes. "And that shirt and pants you're wearing hurt like a really bad hangover."

Kurt glares at Santana. "Ugh. A gay man can only take so much," Kurt sighs, tiredly. "We listened to hip hop and watched anime and talked about _girls_. Kate specifically. How Kate smelled. How Kate giggled. How Kate _sang_. Ugh."

Santana cannot help the snicker that escapes from her lips when Kurt says all these.

Kurt scowls at her. "Not funny, Santana. I also inadvertently found myself her costume designer, too. She's making me come up with her fox costume because of that one time I came here wearing that leopard suit."

"And we rehearsed for the 'The Little Prince' over and over again 'til I could no longer rehearse," Kurt continues. "With your daughter's eyes on me all the time, mocking me, _judging_ me, telling me I was doing the prince's role all wrong and I had to giggle correctly or prance around correctly and be all _princely_ and stuff." He changes his voice, to a high-pitched one, imitating Suzie's voice, "'Your motivation, Uncle Kurt, is that you're a little bratty prince, who left his world on a hero's journey and stuff…you're doing it all wrong…make your voice lower, don't swish your hips around too much like that…Stage right, Uncle Kurt, stage right! Do it again! Do it again! Do it again!'…"

This time Santana cannot suppress the laughter that escapes from her lips. "Sorry," she quickly says, when Kurt glares at her. But Rachel can see she is not, and it makes Kurt even angrier and Rachel gets between them, just in case the banter becomes a bit more…heated. "Of course you were doing it all wrong. You're not a _prince_. You're not even _little_. You're a big freaking _princess_, is what you are!" Santana teases him.

Kurt scowls at Santana.

"And how does she know about motivation and stage direction and all that stuff anyway?" Kurt asks Rachel, trying to ignore Santana's smug expression on her face. When Rachel smiles, Kurt rolls his eyes and says, "Gotta hand it to you, Rach, you've turned Santana's child into a mini-_you_. Santana's _child_, for crissakes! Of all people! She's like the best and worst of you both all in one little cute package!"

Santana now throws back her head and laughs. "I'm sorry, that's hilarious!"

Rachel smiles apologetically. "Want to stay for a night cap or something before you go?" Rachel offers.

"Yes, we can have coffee or tea and some cookies and talk about _girls_," Santana adds with a snicker.

Kurt rolls his eyes. "Why can't I have normal female friends?" he asks as he follows them to the kitchen.

Rachel goes to fill the kettle with water and turns on the stove, whilst listening to the conversation going on between the two as they settle down on the chairs by the counter.

"Because most of your friends are gay men with names like 'Andre', 'Pepper' or '_Felicia_'," Santana points out.

Kurt glares at Santana, although seeing as he is very tired, it is a pretty useless endeavor. "Okay, but I can't stay long, have an early appointment tomorrow."

"Well, why don't you just sleep over here?" Santana asks, out of the blue.

There is a silence in the kitchen as both Rachel and Kurt turn and stare at her, mouths open.

When she notices the silence, Santana shrugs casually. "Well, I don't want to be responsible for you _freezing_ to death in this weather or being _violated_ while trying to get a cab at this time of the night. Although knowing you, you'll probably scare them away with that outfit of yours. I don't care what you say, you're wearing a tablecloth. That can probably double as a tent. The table at the restaurant we just had dinner in had the exact same table cloth, but in a different shade. That brooch you're wearing isn't helping either. Or that stupid scarf on your hair. And your neck. Why the hell do you have so many scarves anyway? What are they all _for_?!"

Kurt scowls at her. "Just when I think you're capable of being human, Santana…"

"Alright, alright, kids," Rachel says, intervening, as she puts teacups in front of the two. "No need to act like children." She turns to Kurt. "You can spend the night in our guest room, there's a towel and a couple of blankets in the cabinet, spare toothbrush and everything else, in the bathroom down the hall."

Kurt smiles gratefully at Rachel. Rachel smiles back.

"As long as you remember that the minute we go into our bedroom, there's no interrupting, unless it's an _emergency_," Santana tells him. "You really don't want to mess with me when something hot is interrupted because the female equivalent of blue balls is _so_ not funny."

Kurt makes a disgusted face as Rachel blushes. Rachel says, "Honey, that's probably way too much information for Kurt."

"Yes, _way_ too much information," Kurt confirms quickly.

"Whatever, you're not allowed to disturb us for any reason whatsoever on pain of death," Santana says. "And you are not, I repeat, _not_ allowed to do those annoying early morning vocalizations you do after you wake up. I've weaned Rachel off that annoying habit and I really don't want my mornings ruined by that infernal high-pitched noise you claim is _singing_."

As Kurt thinks of a suitable retort, Rachel shakes her head as she goes to the pot of water that is now boiling, turns off the stove, and comes back to pour hot water on all their cups. Rachel gets a raspberry flavored teabag and dips it a few times into Santana's cup of boiling water before she transfers the tea bag into her own cup. She offers the cup to Santana and Santana mumbles a thanks to her Santana sips the tea and smiles. Rachel is making Santana cut down on the coffee and since she has discovered Santana likes flavored tea, it has motivated Santana to try tea drinks once in a while.

She sets a plate of cookies in front of the two as well. Rachel announces she is going to go check on Suzie and Santana and Kurt nod in acknowledgement. When she gets to Suzie's room, Suzie is fast asleep, hugging the pink and blue teddy bear that Kate had given her as a belated Christmas present. Kurt the hamster is peacefully nibbling at something in his cage. Rachel tiptoes to her bed, pulls Suzie's blanket up to the girl's chin, plants a soft kiss on the girl's forehead, whispers "Good night" and tiptoes back out.

When she gets back to the kitchen, Kurt and Santana are still at it, teasing and taunting each other. Santana holds out her hand and Rachel automatically comes to her, setting herself between Santana's legs as Santana's arm goes to her waist, her chin on Rachel's right shoulder. Santana plants a kiss on Rachel's cheek as Rachel takes a sip of her tea.

"Oh, god, Quinn warned me about this. You're not going to make out in front of me are you? 'Cause that's just gross," Kurt says, mock horror on his face.

"Leave us alone, loser." Santana rolls her eyes. "Heard you didn't make the cut on that 'True Delights' audition you were telling us about."

"Ugh, Santana, if you're just going to make a joke about that…difficult time in my life, I'd advise you to just shut it," Kurt says.

"No, I'm actually sorry you didn't get the part," Santana says. "_We're_ sorry."

For the second time, Rachel and Kurt stare at Santana in shock.

"Honey, are you okay?" Rachel asks.

"Yes, _honey_, are you okay?" Kurt asks, sarcastically. But then a second later, a realization crosses his face. "Oh, god, did Rachel promise something to you in exchange for being _nice_ to me?"

"Ugh, that's offensive. You make it seem like I'm incapable of being nice to you," Santana says, mock hurt on her face. "And yes, she did in fact, promise something."

Before Kurt could respond, Santana says, "I'm not going to say anything more, except it involves restraints, leather and some whipped cream…and a safe word…"

Kurt gives her a dirty look, Santana laughs out loud, and Rachel, face burning, quickly says, "It's not true. She's just kidding."

"I'm really sorry you didn't get the part though," Santana says now, face more serious and genuine. "I mean seriously, how can you _not_ get the part? You're like the biggest fairy we know."

"Honey, he was auditioning to be a witch," Rachel reminds her.

"Isn't he already that in real _life_?" Santana asks. "You don't need to audition for _that_."

Kurt rolls his eyes, ignores Santana and turns to Rachel. "So, how was auditions…?" Kurt asks.

Rachel smiles and recounts the events of the day as Kurt and Santana listen to her...

* * *

February is as busy as all the other months of the school year for Rachel.

Santana and Kurt are still at it, but Kurt is attempting to take it down a notch, which is still not enough, Santana claims, but considering it is Kurt, is saying a lot. Suzie is busy with school work, the play and Kate.

Rachel and her kids start practicing for the semi-finals as soon as possible. There is a brief celebratory session in which Baz, Kareem, Jamal, McG and Anferny bring some pizza and a couple of bottles of coke into rehearsals one Saturday morning. The kids and Rachel have a set routine, and they go through rehearsals, from vocalizations, to going through the material, the sheet music, choreography and everything else, with renewed enthusiasm. Since they already have a set list ("No Woman, No Cry" by Bob Marley, "What's Going On?" by Marvin Gaye and the Spanish version of"If I Ain't Got You" by Alicia Keys), they get the lengthy decision-making process out of the way and are able to hunker down to practicing the songs over and over again. Baz and Kareem or Jamal and McG are sometimes late or absent, and once, when Rachel asks them why, they say they are working part-time jobs, have shifts at night, homework and practice and so Rachel lets the tardiness and absences slide although she instructs the kids to catch up with rehearsal as the semi-finals are at the end of February. Ruth has ceased coming to the rehearsals, having probably accepted that Rachel will not take her back, but once, Rachel spies the girl hanging out with Isabelle and Amy at their lockers, once just with Isabelle, or with Amy, and sometimes with Abdul, and each time, Ruth seems very different, _acting_ different, and Rachel idly wonders if, like in McKinley's Glee Club, there is something more going on, like a love triangle, or a perhaps even a love rectangle or as Santana jokingly says, when she brings it up to Santana once, "A love rhombus? A love quadrilateral? A quadrilateral of indifference? I've always hated math, so..." Rachel dismisses it though and thinks perhaps the teenagers of Taft High are more evolved than they were in high school.

February would have gone by without a hitch, with the requisite after-school Glee practices, occasional lunch break pep talks with the Glee kids and Saturday Glee practices with Suzie in tow, along with the teaching classes, the grading, the quizzes and tests, the paperwork, the faculty meetings, the Friday student assembly meets, the early preparations for junior and senior prom, homecoming, the games, a high school play that she had to turn down, and so on. She does not hear about the auditions or from Mac after she ditched auditions, but her busy schedule mercifully helps her forget this...

February would have gone by without a hitch, except for a chance talk with Principal Abrams in the middle of February…

* * *

Principal Abrams is in his office, leaning on one of the scratched, old, steel file cabinets that seem always overflowing with manila folders stuffed to bursting with papers, frayed and dog-eared from being rifled through constantly. The secretary has left for the day, and he has his eyeglasses in his hand, his hand on his forehead, his elbow leaning on the cabinet as he closes his eyes, seemingly oblivious to Rachel's presence. The pale, afternoon light from outside the window, sliced in strips by the venetian blinds that cover it, give the room a ghostly appearance. Rachel is unsure as to whether to disturb this moment or not, after all, she is just passing by the office to check the memos and if there is anything in her pigeonhole. But as she slowly backs away, Principal Abrams suddenly seems to realize the presence of another human in the room and he looks up, notices Rachel and smiles thinly.

"Hi, sorry, I was just leaving," Rachel says apologetically as she takes a step back.

"Sorry, did you need something?" Principal Abrams asks, blinking his eyes once, twice before focusing it on Rachel, putting back his glasses as he does so. He looks a little confused, disconcerted.

"Uh, no, no, I could go back tomorrow, really," Rachel says.

"Oh, okay," Principal Abrams says, sighing.

There is something in the sigh that makes Rachel stop in her tracks, tilt her head and look at Principal Abrams.

"Are you okay?" Rachel asks, tentatively. "I'm sorry to intrude, I just thought…"

Principal Abrams shakes his head. There are dark circles under his eyes, a few more creases on his forehead that she has not noticed before, and an exhaustion on his face, a sluggishness to his movements that suggest to Rachel that he is more overworked than usual, losing sleep and exhausted beyond reason. His head seems to have lost more hair since the last time she has seen him, she notes. "No, no, I'm fine. Thank you for asking."

When no further elaboration on why he looks the way he looks today is forthcoming, Rachel takes that as a cue to leave him alone and turns on her heel to do so. But then, Principal Abrams suddenly and unexpectedly speaks up, a bit hesitantly at first.

"It's this damn school board," he begins, surprising Rachel with the unexpected use of a curse word. It tells Rachel that the usually tough-as-nails, bulldog of a principal is clearly upset over something.

She waits for him to go into detail more as she stands there, awkward and uncertain.

Principal Abrams seems encouraged by Rachel staying to listen to one of his rare rants, so he continues, "It's this stupid no-child-left-behind crap the government insists we do. It's this stupid school reform shit the school board wants us to do with this school. It's the fact that the classrooms are shit, and the library is shit and we never have enough textbooks and never enough money for anything, and our students are always halfway between ending up on the streets, or in jail."

Rachel listens politely as Principal Abrams continues, "Now the school board wants us to some transformational reform mumbo jumbo that's going to leave hundreds of teachers without jobs, because apparently it's their fault some of the students at Taft read at a grade school level. I mean, what am I going to do, Miss Berry? Answer me that."

And because Rachel is surprised and honestly at a loss for words, she shakes her head and remains silent.

Principal Abrams looks now at Rachel and smiles thinly, tiredly. "So sorry to lay this out on you like this. The burden of being responsible for hundreds of teachers and an equal amount of students, you know?"

Rachel nods, saying nothing.

Principal Abrams sighs. "And the school board wants the teachers to spend more hours at school, set aside an hour every week to tutor every single student, and they are required to up the literacy and passing levels of students, but of course the teachers' union wants more compensation for that, and I understand they're overworked and underpaid as it is and it's hard towing the line, trying to balance the school board with the teachers' union and the students and the parents." Here, Principal Abrams rolls his eyes. "And my god, the _parents_. Parents! The _bane_ of my existence! Every time their son or daughter fails it's our fault. They go off and get shot it's our fault. They go off and be druggies, it's our fault. They go off and be prostitutes, it's our fault. They go off and get pregnant, it's our fault. But they go off and do something right, it's _still_ our fault. They go off and excel at sports, but flunk their subjects and we have to take them off the team and it's our fault." He shakes his head at this and now looks at Rachel. "They go off and place in a singing competition and it's still, somehow, for one reason or other, _our_ fault. Never mind that these same sports programs and arts programs are what's taking them off the streets and helping them stay in our classes. And when teachers show even a little _hint_ of creativity when it comes to teaching his or her classes, we _still_ lose. Because that's just the way it is and it's not how we do things and we need to follow the rules, even if the rules are outdated and they don't work anymore and it's set back American education for over a century or longer."

Abrams looks at Rachel with sadness in his eyes. Rachel does not know why, but there is something about his tone that unnerves her.

"Miss Berry, we have to talk …"

* * *

**_Author's end notes:_**

**_That's it for this chapter! Many thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing this chapter! Your kind, thoughtful reviews are always welcome and much appreciated!_**

**_I'd like to say thank you as well to the readers for reading the last chapter, and a very special thanks to those who took the time to review. As always, your thoughtful, sensible reviews were much appreciated, enlightening and heartwarming. I'd just like to say, please don't be hating on this chapter. :-) I know a lot of you feel strongly about Rachel's dilemma: Glee Club and teaching vs. Broadway, but as with everything else in this story, I also wanted to explore realism and complexity not just in one's personal life but also in one's professional life, how it's really never easy to make choices and decisions about anything as we grow older and how scary that can be because we have to live with those choices for the rest of our adult lives. Also, we already know that yes, Rachel may be a die-hard Broadway person, but she is also the consummate professional and devoted family woman. :) I know there are parallels between her life and Mr. Schuester's life right now (and that's not by accident), but as I've already illustrated (and as the show has shown time and time again), she is by far more talented and the (infinitely) better teacher. :) Stay with me on this, please. :) I know it's a bit different, but if you've come this far into this story, then you trust me enough to take you wherever this story may take us. :) And _****_I thank all of you_****_ for sticking with me. :)_**

**_Also, so sorry about the cliffhanger! :) _**

**_Many thanks yet again to my beta DragonsWillFly for going over this chapter! As always, you are the best. :)_**

**_To CarolineSC - Glad chapter 23 made you happy. :-) So sorry about the cliffhanger. :) Hope this chapter answers some of your questions. Thank you for reading and reviewing and for still being able to enjoy this story! Even if it's already 24 chapters!_**

**_To amazinglife18 - Thank you for your review! I really enjoyed it. :) Yes, Rachel does face a tough professional decision and you are right, it's a bit similar to Mr. Schue's dilemma in Season 2, but you are right, unlike him, she has already been successful and she IS great teacher but there is also her Santana and Suzie as well. :) And yes, that is as important as a professional career. Glad you are sticking around. The story isn't over yet. :)_**

**_To parker88 - Good to have you back! :) Always a delight to hear from you. :) Glad to know you liked chapter 23 and also glad to know you were happy about how the Baz story ended. I did want complex O.C.s and his backstory was already at the back of my mind from chapter 1 (so you can imagine how long that stayed in my brain!). :) Glad you liked the family time in the car and at home. Family fluff is always fun to write. :) As for Rachel's big decisions, yes, she has been doing a lot of those.:) As for my writing of Pezberry - glad you have always enjoyed my writing of Pezberry (I kinda went back and saw you reviewed the other couple of stories, and for that I would like to thank you) and glad you like the touchy feely couple stuff - I think since everything's kind of settled between Rachel and Santana, that kind of freed them up a bit, and kinda inadvertently turned into a second honeymoon. :) (Also must say I love how nothing escapes your eye!haha! I thought I was subtle enough with the touchy feely stuff!haha!) Also, so sorry for the really cruel cliffhanger. As for chapter 24 - hope this did not disappoint. It's a bit more understated than expected I think, but that's how some of decisions are, I think. Hope you enjoyed chapter 24! Thanks for reading and reviewing! ;)_**

**_To kutee - Thank you so much for reading and reviewing both chapters! I always look forward to your reviews and it is always a pleasure to hear from you. Thank you for saying chapter 23 is a great chapter. Yes, Santana and Rachel supporting each other is an important aspect of this story. I really find this couple quite compelling and they're the strongest performers on the show anyway, so. :) Re: Santana on Kurt's outfit - yes, I wanted to keep the Glee tradition of Kurt wearing awful things and Santana saying awful things alive. Haha! :) I always enjoyed those on the show (unless they turn offensive or weirdly racist and homophobic). Glad you enjoyed it! VA and ND are back, yes, but as for Shelby, not so sure about her though. Would be a trip to see Rachel's kids beat Shelby's kids, definitely! ;) PS No, I would never hold it against you if you forgot to review a chapter. :)_**

**_To MelovePezberry - Glad H.J. feeling better made you happy. Re: Love San line about Kurt outfit . Has to be one of the best laugh I had read this story and that say a lot because you are of the best at writing comedy- aw, thanks! That means a lot! Much appreciate it. I do enjoy writing comedy. Re: Another cliff hanger you got me felling like a druggie need her fix - So sorry! Gotta find a way for you guys to keep coming back, as I have to compete with 16,000+ Glee stories out there! But glad you keep coming back! I enjoy your reviews and look forward to your kind comments every time! Again, many thanks and hope you enjoyed this chapter!_**

**_To go-sullivan - Thanks for reading and reviewing! Glad you find the chapters hilarious and like the students! Hope you enjoy the story!_**

**_Songs featured in this chapter:_**

**_"Killing Me Softly" as sung by The Fugees_**

**_"Redemption Song" by Bob Marley as sung by Sweet Honey in the Rock_**

**_"Desert Rose" by Sting_**


	25. Starfish and Lemons

**_Author's note: Dear readers (team Rachel and Santana) Chapter 25 is up! Happy reading!_**

* * *

Rachel had this one unforgettable Literature and Theater Arts professor in NYADA named Tipper Potts.

Tipper Potts was blonde and only slightly taller than her, slim and full of energy, and had a face that was as expressive as any number of Disney characters. She reminded Rachel of Anna Farris a little. In fact, she not only bears a striking resemblance to the actress, but also, sometimes had the same goofy, liberal, funny, free spirit that Anna Farris brought to all her characters onscreen that Rachel, for all her youthful superciliousness, and her passion for anything highbrow, had come to love. Tipper Potts had actually been mistaken for Anna Farris more than once and introduced herself the first day of class as, "No, I'm not Anna Farris. But I met her at a Lilith Fair concert once!"

Tipper Potts is passionate, makes her students think outside the box, is the complete opposite of the terror of NYADA, the pretentiously named dance teacher Cassandra July, who not only came to class reeking of liquor, but also came badly prepared and in dire need of lessons on how to teach dance and how to teach in general. Why Cassandra July is employed in NYADA in the first place, Rachel will never know. Tipper Potts exudes a low-key persona, a modesty and humility that is a welcome change from all the bitchiness that comes from teachers and students alike at NYADA. Which is why it surprises Rachel later on to know that not only is Tipper Potts a huge West End star, she had also travelled the world representing American Arts non-profit organizations on a message of peace and hope in the arts to poor people all over the world. She is, in no way, the washed out, bitter alcoholic Broadway has-been star like Cassandra July with her barely-there presence and her half-baked attempts at teaching Rachel and the other students. Rachel loves all Tipper Potts' classes and had looked forward to them.

Tipper Potts is by no means an easy teacher to learn from. She is strict, no-nonsense, gives homework like there is no tomorrow, required everyone to read, memorize and recite lines from Shakespeare's sonnets at a moment's notice, and spout analysis and original insight of each verse of his poems with blinding speed and accuracy when called. She expects students to know what imagery, symbols, allegories, metaphors, personification, paradoxes, rhythms, meters (Rachel had spent a considerable amount of time mastering the names of meters but only really loved the iambic pentameter) are, and what the patterns of traditional poems are. She expects students to come to class knowing about the elements of plays and novels and short stories, and students must have already read through the daunting required reading, an intimidating number that spanned the whole human experience dating back from Homer, all the way to Ovid, and Milton to Goethe to Chekov to George Bernard Shaw and Oscar Wilde and Sartre and Nietzsche by the time the semester ends. She requires students to be able to master the literary theories as well. Tipper Potts had the highest number of enrollees every semester and was the most popular teacher on campus.

Rachel meets Tipper Potts one day freshmen year, that fateful morning after she sleeps with Santana and Santana not only leaves without saying goodbye, refusing to talk or even acknowledge what happened, but also rebuffs Rachel with that nasty, painful talking to on the phone. Rachel is, inexplicably, in one of the stalls in the restroom, sobbing, wondering, for the nth time, why she had slept with Santana in the first place. Rachel Berry didn't _do_ one-night stands. She didn't just sleep with anyone, it always had _feelings_ involved. And she certainly as hell didn't do it with bitchy, but incredibly hot, former cheerleaders with an ax to grind with the world. But something that night had changed for them, something different. Rachel hardly ever had decent conversations with Santana, owing to the fact that the other woman was always threatening to maul her or throw a cup of scalding Lima Bean coffee on her face, but this, post-high school Santana, is surprisingly articulate, polysyllabic, insightful, astonishingly intelligent. Santana Lopez is actually funny and _witty_. Rachel realizes that freed from the bizarre popularity food pyramid of McKinley that required everyone to hide being smart for fear of being slushied, Santana could finally be herself. Santana engages her in a silly game where they make fun of the other customers ("That one needs to get laid!", "That one needs to stop getting laid!", "That one, oooh two words: Vaginal rejuvenation!", "That one…hmmm…just needs to dance all the way to the edge of a cliff and into a mudpit…") that makes Rachel laugh like she has never laughed before. Santana segues into a "name-that-tune" game that has her singing songs with inappropriate titles like "I'll Make Love To You", "Let Me Lick You Up and Down" and "I Touch Myself" chosen specifically to make Rachel squirm and blush and make Santana throw back her head and laugh, whilst Rachel makes her roll her eyes at the obscure music (Gilbert and Sullivan, James Rado, Gerome Ragni and Galt MacDermot) she sings that Santana has difficulty guessing. Rachel does not recall having this kind of interesting or even fun conversations with Finn, seeing as half of her time is spent trying to explain the big words she uses, or searching for simpler, monosyllabic words he can understand. For some strange reason, that night, Rachel Berry and Santana Lopez actually _click_, and it makes Rachel regret that she hadn't gotten to know Santana more when they were in high school. She is glad though that they do have this, that night, and Rachel likes it, because she feels that maybe Santana isn't like this with Brittany either.

Rachel recalls Santana tipsily teasing her about Finn, rattling off the long list of Finn's non-existent redeeming qualities, "Why do you like him anyway? You guys have absolutely _nothing_ in common! He thought he got Quinn pregnant in a hot tub! He pretended to be in a wheelchair to get a job, but made a big deal when Quinn does the same thing after her accident so she could win prom queen! He called Kurt a fag! He couldn't even defend Kurt against Karofsky! I've got more balls than that man-child! And you just _told_ me he accidentally _shot _himself. _And_ the dude publicly outed me! _And_ I heard he called Coach Sue's baby retarded! Who _does_ that? _And_ he can't sing! _Or_ dance! Every time he sings on stage, I feel like screaming 'Get off the stage, you asshole! You suck!' And he worshipped _toast_, for crissakes!" It takes Rachel a second to realize Santana is just making her feel better, but Rachel gamely retorts anyway, "Do you really want to go there? Because Brittany believes in Santa Claus, leprechauns and unicorns!" Santana narrows her eyes then and Rachel can see she is in a "defend-Brittany's-honor" mode, the kind of expression she always has whenever people, like Finn Hudson, for example, call Brittany S. Pierce stupid. She half-expects Santana to attack her then and she half-wishes Quinn, Brittany and Sam would be there to physically restrain Santana, but Santana only laughs and says, "Hey! Britt is awesome and you know it! And at least she's not a fucking _jackass_ like Finn! Kind of like that stupid NYADA Teutonic stalker boytoy that you're crushing on at the moment…what's his name again? 'Sex Offender'?"

Rachel rolls her eyes, feeling slightly embarrassed at what Santana has just pointed out and says, by way of changing the topic, "Brittany _is_ awesome, isn't she? She should be if she still puts up with you!" Santana gives her a mysterious half-smile, "Well, I do know how to make the ladies _stick _around…"

There is a silence as Rachel smiles at this, then Santana comments, "I am _so_ not a fan of your new makeover. Even if that skirt you're wearing right now is hot. If you tell anyone this, I will kill you, but I sort of miss your geekiness when we were in high school, Rachel. I kind of liked you just the way you were before…" Rachel laughs, turning slightly pink at Santana's remark. Then Santana, who is now more than tipsy and just a little bit drunk on wine and cocktails, gives her a look, with a slightly (if Rachel is not mistaken) flirtatious smile, and says, out-of-the-blue, "Too bad you're straight, Rachel Berry. I would have rocked your world!" And then of course, because Rachel had been tipsier than she cares to admit herself, and because, for some strange reason, Santana looks even more beautiful and sexier than ever that night as well, Rachel says, evenly and with a smile, "Well, you can still rock my world, if you want to, anytime, anywhere", that shocks Santana into a brief silence. This then set off the string of confusing mixed signals that night that culminate in a surprising sudden kiss and the infamous sleeping together that happens after in Rachel's apartment. Rachel remembers thinking after the kiss how it's not like kissing Finn or Jesse or Puck at all. The lips are softer, silkier, the kiss tender, and Santana, Santana is surprisingly gentle that night, not at all like the boys Rachel has dated, and Santana even manages to drunkenly murmur, "Wait, I'm supposed to ask if you're okay with all this or if you're too drunk to give consent …" that makes Rachel impatiently kiss her and say, "Shut up and kiss me," and there is this fleeting look on Santana's face that Rachel has never, ever seen before. And nothing is ever the same again after.

Rachel recalls being confused by all this the morning after. When she calls Santana and Santana pretends that nothing happened, she is _devastated_. She does not know why she feels like she does. God knows she hated Santana in high school, but she also knows sex complicates things, and it certainly complicates and confuses the feelings she had that had lain dormant and latent in her.

Tipper Potts hears Rachel, more than sees her, and shoves a box of Kleenex on the open space beneath the door to a soft question of "Are you okay?" The woman is nice, kind, and completely ignores the fact that Rachel had been crying her eyes out in a bathroom stall and instead gives Rachel beauty tips ("Less make-up, more attitude!" Tipper Potts says with a smile) so her mascara would not smudge next time.

She does not know why but that simple act of kindness gets her through that day. She seeks out Tipper Potts' classes, ditches Cassandra July's classes for a better dance instructor (what on earth is she doing in a dance class anyway? She is a singer and an actor! Not a dancer! She thinks to herself) and spends the next few semesters learning about theater and literature from Tipper Potts. She throws herself in her studies and Santana Lopez and the burning touch of her lips on every square inch of Rachel's skin, though never forgotten, mercifully fades into a dull but painful ache, a memory that would not go away.

Tipper Potts is an inspiration to Rachel in the way that Mr. Shuester, Coach Sue Sylvester, Coach Tanaka, Coach Beiste, Emma Pillsbury-Schuester, Sandy, Principal Figgins and any number of teachers in McKinley are not. Tipper Potts has that elusive moral fiber that nobody in McKinley's faculty seems to have and are thus incapable of imparting. Rachel learns not only about poetry and plays and novels and short stories and stage direction and motivation and method acting but also about something else. Something _more_. It is Tipper Potts who makes her want to be a teacher, and if her Broadway career had not taken off the way it did, and if her parents had not discouraged her, vehemently, from pursuing a career in education ("Dear, those who can, _do_, those who can't, _teach_," Hiram had told her then), she would have ended up teaching. But her Broadway dreams did, courtesy of Tipper Potts introducing her to her agent Jack MacPherson and her teacher's license had wallowed in one of her meticulously labeled color coordinated boxes, to be unearthed later, at the right time, when she hears that Brittany has passed away, and her husband calls her to ask for a divorce and she reconnects and eventually falls in love with Santana and the Broadway offers all but dry up when she has her surgery. Brittany's death affects her in such a different way. There is a sense of loss there, because she had never known until it was too late, that someone she knew had passed away, because she could not cry and grieve at the proper time. There is a sense of hurt there as well, that Santana would be so determined to exclude her even from that part of her life. It is Brittany's death, more than anything, that starts her thinking about what she is doing with her life. It reminds her of what Tipper Potts had told her all those years ago, and it is the only thing that she remembers when she hears, a few years later, long after Brittany is dead and buried and mourned, how fleeting life is.

Tipper Potts used to inspire her students with rousing speeches on living their lives to the fullest, that the other teachers, mainly led by Cassandra July, who did not take too kindly to Vassar-educated Tipper Potts teaching in NYADA, made fun of. But Tipper Potts is loved exactly for just such these very same words that the other teachers deride her for. Tired of the same bitchy demeanor from the other teachers, students embrace what Tipper Potts herself calls are clichés. "But they are clichés because they are true," she says, "Because there is some truth in them."

Rachel remembers Tipper Potts telling them the importance of making a difference, of being the change you can see in the world, quoting Emily Dickinson by saying they should leave the world a better place than they found it. "Life is too short to be too self-absorbed and self-centered, to be concerned and consumed too much with fame and fortune. One day, someday we are all going to die. We should die knowing we've left the world a better place, we've made a difference, we've transcended life, we've _authenticated_ our lives."

Tipper Potts used to talk about the butterfly effect, how the flap of a butterfly's wings reverberate throughout the world, and how that is how Rachel and the others should think as well. She would talk about the ripple effect, how one random act of kindness could change the world, how though Rachel is only but a drop in the ocean, they should remember that the ocean is made up of those tiny, infinitesimal drops. "Without those drops, there wouldn't _be_ any ocean in the first place," Tipper Potts used to say. "You are just one person, but you are one person who can make a difference. Make your life _matter_."

_Ars longa, vita brevis_. That's what Tipper Potts would usually say to them. Art is long. Life is short. "So make it count," Tipper Potts would constantly remind them.

* * *

Rachel does not know why it is Tipper Potts she remembers now, but she does, and maybe it is because Tipper Potts had been implicated and wrongly blamed for a student's suicide. She is publicly shamed and humiliated before she is unceremoniously fired, long after further investigation reveals that the student had committed suicide because he had had an intense affair with the very same Cassandra July, who had broken off the affair after she got bored with him. By the time the truth was revealed, it is too late. Cassandra is fired on the spot, publicly condemned and quietly disappears from NYADA and the public. Last she heard Cassandra July was convicted for tax evasion and a few DUI charges. There should be poetic justice in this, but the damage has been done. Sometimes, Rachel thinks, the truth does _not_ set you free.

She thinks about this now, wonders where Tipper Potts is, wonders where she is, wonders if her life turned out alright after all, if she is happy and at peace with what happened to her at NYADA.

She thinks about her and wants to tell her she understands, understands now, everything she has wanted Rachel and the class of 2016 to understand - after all that Rachel has been through her life, loving and losing and finding and keeping and learning and growing and coming together and growing some more in life - she finally understands what Tipper Potts, in all her understated, simple grace, had tried to convey to them.

But the one thing she would have wanted to tell Tipper Potts is, it isn't a ripple effect or a butterfly effect at all. She thinks she has made zero difference to her kids, almost as if she is Mr. Schuester pretending to be a good teacher, pretending to have _made_ a man out of each boy who had ever set foot in Glee Club. Except Rachel _is_, actually, a good teacher. An _extraordinary_ teacher. Probably one of the best Taft High has ever had. And she knows this with the same kind of firm certainty she has about her talent, about her love for Santana, about her devotion to Suzie. But as she sits now, in front of Principal Abrams, listening to him prattle on, she realizes this might probably be the biggest mistake she has made. Perhaps the most _foolish_ mistake she has ever made in her entire life.

* * *

It starts out harmlessly enough in Principal Abrams' office, which was never really always the right room temperature.

"It's about the Glee Club, Miss Berry…" Principal Abrams hesitantly says, as he leans back on his chair in his too warm office. "I don't know how to say this but…we may have some problems with the club…"

"What about it?" Rachel asks as she makes herself comfortable in the seat Principal Abrams offers across from him. "Is it the funding? Because it's barely making a dent on the school coffers…"

"It's…it's not just that…" Principal Abrams continues. "I…received a call from Mrs. Goldman…a very upset call, I might add."

When Rachel does not answer and waits for him to continue instead, he sighs and says, "Apparently, she kind of…uh…" and here Principal Abrams clears his throat, face flushing as he continues, "…Caught her daughter…"

"Principal Abrams, she's not in Glee Club anymore. Hasn't been in Glee Club since you asked me to take her out," Rachel interrupts, sighing, wondering what Principal Abrams is getting at.

"Well, that's not the problem, really…"

"Then what is the problem?" Rachel demands, barely concealing her impatience. She is glad Suzie is carpooling today and Kurt is coming over later to keep Suzie company and show her the costume he designed for the play.

"Well, she caught her daughter in a very…uh…compromising position with, uh, one of your Glee Club members…at home…in the bedroom…in their, uh, birthday suits…"

What he says barely registers with Rachel before it dawns on her what the implication is of what he just said. "What? Who? It's Abdul isn't it?"

Principal Abrams shakes his head. "Actually…Isabelle Cruz…"

It takes a second for the name to register, and for that bigger bombshell to sink in, and when it does, Rachel does not know what to say and so only goes for, "Oh."

"Yes. As you can imagine, Mrs. Goldman was very, very, _very_ upset. And she got more upset when she found Isabelle is one of your kids…" Principal Abrams says. "I won't bore you with the embarrassing details as I really want Mrs. Goldman's way too much information description of her daughter with Isabelle Cruz out of my head but, suffice it to say Mrs. Goldman might just be looking for someone to blame for her child's apparently wayward ways. She'd put two and two together and found out Ruth and Isabelle share you as the same teacher in Glee, and has actually contacted Mrs. Cruz, Isabelle's mom, to discuss what to do about this…uh…problem. I can tell you now that Mrs. Cruz herself seems none too happy with the relationship Ruth and Isabelle have and they are discussing transferring the child next school year. Mrs. Goldman kind of started getting these ideas that you are a bad influence on the kids…"

"Bad influence?" Rachel asks vacantly. She never thought she would see the day she, Rachel Berry, would be called a bad influence on today's modern youth. She looks at Principal Abrams confused, and moves to speak, but Principal Abrams holds up a hand and stays her.

Principal Abrams smiles humorlessly. "Well, let's be honest, Miss Berry, you haven't actually been following the curriculum or the prescribed literature…" he says, with a knowing look in his eye. "It's fine. Since you started teaching those kids I think they've improved a lot. Even the sophomores you took in have impressive grades and one of your students came to me asking for advice on _colleges_. Colleges, Miss Berry! Can you _believe_ that? I nearly had a heart attack. But, you _have_ been sneaking in books like The Hunger Games, and the Golden Compass and The Color Purple - some very controversial literature that parents have always taken an issue with for the provocative content and themes. Ruth had one of those books in her bedroom, apparently. She'd borrowed it from one of your other kids who also take your class, so."

"Principal Abrams, I'm so sorry, I meant no disrespect…" Rachel begins.

"It's fine, Miss Berry," Principal Abrams says, waving her apology impatiently away. "You've got these kids _reading_. At Taft High. Wish I had more teachers who have guts like you. But, you kind of also gave Mrs. Goldman ammunition. Plus she kind of uncovered some more interesting information to stoke the fire, I'm afraid," Principal Abrams continues. "I'm quite surprised actually. Apparently she has been doing this for a few weeks now." When Rachel does not make a move to speak, Principal Abrams continues, "For example, did you know Kenyatta West has been having verbal and sometimes physical altercations with her parents for coming home late and for refusing to do housework at home because, as she claims, she has to practice. There is also some mention of how…she has been engaging with multiple partners…there was…uh…a pregnancy test kit that one of her parents found…but…I seriously don't think that's your fault, but…"

"Kenyatta?" Rachel asks. "No, I didn't know…although shouldn't we be concerned she is a victim of domestic violence?" She cringes as she remembers that one time Coach Beiste had been a victim of domestic violence and no one had done anything about it.

"I…have reported it…but apparently the root cause of the altercations is her extracurricular activities, particularly her Glee Club activities," Principal Abrams says.

"Principal Abrams, you already _know_ the kind of hours we keep. I have attendance sheets and signed waivers and permits and reports to prove it," Rachel points out.

"I know, Miss Berry, I know," Principal Abrams says, in a vaguely condescendingly tone. "But Mrs. Goldman also finds out that the other kids, particularly Henry James, Anferny, Arnold Adler, and that other kid of yours, I forgot his name, but the other kids call him McG…have been sneaking out late, joining those underground rap contests and pulling Ruth along."

Oh, _shit_, Rachel thinks now as the truth hits her.

Principal Abrams takes advantage of her silence to say, "These are kids, Miss Berry, of course they'd be young and wild and will want to go around…uh…exploring their sexuality and sneaking out rapping to god knows what kind of music but…it's not looking good for everyone, Miss Berry," Principal Abrams says now. "And what with those blasted school reforms and no-child-left behind and negotiations with the school board falling through and impending arts funding cuts, it's not looking too good for everyone…" Principal Abrams' voice trails off.

Principal Abrams is silent. She waits for what comes next, and Principal Abrams mercifully continues, "And I know you'll think this is stupid, and I'm being such a blithering idiot for bringing it up in the first place, but I need to tell you this as well, just to prepare you for this, too."

He sighs and seems unable to look Rachel in the eye. "There's also…apparently the, uh, lifestyle…"

"Lifestyle," Rachel echoes, flatly. She cannot believe her ears. She cannot believe this is being raised right now.

"Mrs. Goldman kind of thinks it was your lifestyle, coupled with those ideas you apparently are giving her daughter about music and the arts and literature being able to free one's soul and teaching her to be rebellious and be much more…_assertive_, that pushed her daughter to…experiment with an alternative lifestyle," Principal Abrams says.

"What?" Rachel asks.

Principal Abrams nods. "Mrs. Goldman now seems convinced there is some gay agenda at Taft High that's turned her daughter gay and she's gone to rally other parents to her cause and complain to the school board…"

"Gay agenda?" Rachel asks blankly. She doesn't know why, but she suddenly turns cold at the thought. This does not sound good, she thinks to herself.

"Miss Berry, your personal life is your own business and I respect your privacy but that doesn't mean Mrs. Goldman would. I'm sorry," Principal Abrams says. "I don't actually think she can go far with that gay agenda crap she's raising, we have a non-discrimination policy here, but I'm just giving you a head's up…"

"It's fine. Thank you." Rachel smiles thinly. "Although I seriously don't think I turned her daughter gay. I don't nearly have that kind of power. Chances are she probably was already gay before. And those novels - I'm sorry, but the kids enjoyed it and they _are_ reading the classics now, so…"

"I know." Principal Abrams shrugs. "Anyway, expect some shit hitting the fan in the next few days. Mrs. Goldman is rallying other parents as her supporters."

"What's going to happen?" Rachel asks, finding herself going numb.

"I don't know. I honestly don't know. But I'm doing what I can but I don't think we should worry. I think this will die a natural death and we can move on to more important things, like actually educating our kids. I wouldn't worry about it, if I were you."

Rachel nods, trusts and accepts Principal Abrams words at face value, as Principal Abrams smiles reassuringly and congratulates her for making the Glee Club advance to the semi-finals and for the work she is doing in her classes. Principal Abrams dismisses her with an absent-minded "Have a good day" that signals to Rachel that she can go and she leaves, anxious and worried and a little bit panicked.

* * *

No, teaching is not what Rachel envisioned it to be, all those long years ago, when she fantasized about being a teacher whilst in Tipper Potts' class learning about making a difference and changing the world and the ripple effect and the butterfly effect.

* * *

Contrary to what Principal Abrams has said, she _should_ have worried about it, because from the looks of it, though she has never met her, Mrs. Goldman strikes Rachel like a much scarier, more no-nonsense, terrifyingly effective, vindictive version of Sue Sylvester and she could actually do more damage than is necessary. It is not Rachel's own reputation that she is worried of. It is dragging her personal life into it, her life to be put under scrutiny for this, dragging Santana into it, and a twelve-year old girl who does not know the first thing about the ways of the world and how it can chew you out and spit you out in one breath.

Principal Abrams says it will die a natural death, that nothing will come of it.

* * *

But this is exactly what happens a few weeks later, when a fatigued Principal Abrams announces to her that Mrs. Goldman has amassed supporters to her cause, and the only thing that is stopping them from rushing to the school to demand Rachel's head on a plate is Principal Abrams. He pacifies them enough to request that they instead, agree to a meeting with Principal Abrams and Rachel in the auditorium on that very week.

Rachel thinks that meeting was not very rational or even sensible. She does have the presence of mind to tell Santana about it and she can almost literally see the gears in Santana's brain working as she goes through the millions of laws, legal precedents, Supreme Court Annotations, and so on, to see what they could do. The benefits of having a partner who is a lawyer is that Rachel gets to have Santana's legal expertise at all times and as something dawns on Santana, she can see the look of worry on her face as she tells her in no uncertain terms should she allow the meeting to get out of hand, and that, if worse comes to worst, she should invoke the right to an attorney should things get out of hand. It takes monumental convincing on Rachel's part to keep Santana from going to school and actually going all Lima Heights on Principal Abrams and the aforementioned Mrs. Goldman, but after Rachel promises to do everything in her power to protect herself and call Santana in the office if she needs help, does Santana concede.

And like most meetings that start out innocently enough, this one does so without a hitch, with Principal Abrams mediating the whole meeting in the auditorium, disgruntled, grumpy parents sitting on the chairs as she and Principal Abrams stand and lean by the stage. As Principal Abrams gives the floor to her and she starts with a PowerPoint presentation she prepared a few days in advance which she uses to explain the process of the Glee Club, what they actually do, what the competition is, the kind of schedules they keep, the actual amount of time spent practicing, actual days of the week that are used for practicing, she sees the parents listening attentively, intently, and so she thinks maybe this meeting might do the damage control Principal Abrams was talking about.

But then, one parent snorts, "Yeah, but I still can't believe you don't even know what's going on with our kids after Glee Club practice!"

It takes Rachel a moment to bite her tongue and restrain herself before she says something she regrets, mainly that she is not a babysitter, and that kids are old enough to take care of themselves and besides, it is not her job to know at all times, where the kids are after school hours. Principal Abrams springs to her defense and echoes just that exact same thought that crosses her mind.

But the random, snide comment from that parent is enough to encourage the other parents to speak up and sets off a succession of heated statements directed at Rachel. Rachel can barely recognize each parent, as each angry one just blurs into the next. The parents hardly even introduce themselves to her.

"They're spending way too much on _singing_. I don't bust my ass at the factory so my kid can ditch class for singing!" a parent says.

"Miss - " Rachel says, tentatively.

"Mrs. Lee."

"Mrs. Lee. I never forced your child or any child for that matter, to sing. And I'd be the last person to make your kids ditch class for the club. I can guarantee you the kids are required to keep at least a B in all their classes in order to be able to stay in Glee," Rachel says patiently.

"That's the problem! Our kids are either studying or singing! They're not helping around the home, they be only studying or singing! They don't even have time to get part-time jobs!" another parent says. "I mean, the fuck they doing singing? Singing won't get them jobs!"

"Yeah!" another parent agrees. "Yeah, you got them working til Saturday, goddamit!"

"I would advise you to refrain from using such words here, sir," Principal Abrams interrupts.

"I'm not making them work til Saturday. They _suggested_ it," Rachel says evenly. "Maybe if we stopped treating them like kids and more like adults, we wouldn't have this problem in the first place."

"It's this damn school district and its damn arts and gay agenda!" another parent butts in.

Rachel's heart stops cold. "I'm sorry?"

"Don't play dumb with us. You've been making them read books like 'The Hunger Games' and 'The Golden Compass', both of which are explicitly violent," the same parent says. "You had them read 'The Color Purple' which has _lesbians_ in it. And we've heard the rumors. It's a bit strange, isn't it, that a very beautiful young woman like you would still be single? I mean, what kind of school are you running here, Principal Abrams? Letting our kids read smut like that and be influenced by a teacher like her?"

"And if you think we're going to allow you to infect our children with her…lifestyle….you've got another think comin'!"

Before Rachel can defend her literary choices to the group, Principal Abrams speaks up.

"Hey, hey! If you think I'm going to allow you to talk like this to one of my teachers, in my school, you've got another think coming!" Principal Abrams interrupts. "Miss Berry's life is her own business and I ask you to respect that. And last time I checked, being gay isn't contagious."

"May I speak, please?" Rachel says.

Principal Abrams nods.

"These kids are talented," Rachel says. "So _damn_ talented. Jamal can play the guitar like a pro and I thought he'd gone to school for that, but he taught himself how to do it. Anferny has an amazing voice, Kareem, Jamal, Baz, they all have such potential, and the girls, Kenyatta, Maya, Hannah? Those girls are just as amazing!"

She turns to her laptop, clicks it to the part where there is a video, plays it, and the moving images of Baz and the others, practicing, competing, laughing, joking with each other, making faces at the camera, pulling pranks at each other. Rachel smiles, seeing them on the screen like this. She had Dubs shoot a few clips of the Club together, just for posterity. She does not know it would prove useful in this way.

"Glee Club, the arts is not evil. When you make the kids sing, it provides them with an outlet to express themselves," she begins, as Baz and the others appear again on the screen.

"When you put kids together in a club they learn to work as a team. They learn to _listen_ to each other," Rachel continues, as the image on the screen is of the Glee kids huddling together, some praying, holding hands, encouraging each other, just before they go onstage.

"They learn to respect each other," she adds now, as the video shows the boys hanging out with Abdul, Kenyatta, Hannah and the other girls teaching the boys to dance, and vice versa, Anferny teaching the boys to sing on an appropriate level, and a few clips of the kids teasing Rachel, "They start caring for something other than themselves. Something bigger, something _higher_. They start looking beyond what's impossible to what's possible. That's the power of music…"

* * *

Rachel stares out of the living room window, robe drawn tight around her, as she looks out into the darkness of a cold, snow-filled February night. It is three in the morning and she is a silhouette against the pale pool of light created by the moon and the streetlights below.

Some nights, Rachel wakes up in the middle of the night, staring up at the ceiling, replaying the conversation with Principal Abrams, or thinking about her Barbara Streisand musical auditions. Mac had called her again to say that there is no word yet from the producers, as there seems to be no funding for new plays, even if they are new musical plays about Barbara Streisand. Funding is hard to come by in this economy, he says. She does not know if this is his nice way of saying she didn't get in, but she does not push it.

Sometimes, she wakes up in the middle of the night and wonders whether she has made the right choices in her life, sometimes wonders what would have happened had she made different choices, taken a different path.

She stands now by the window looking out and staring out does not, in any way, remove the persistent anxiety that she feels, that feeling of drowning, of suffocating, of not knowing what to do or where to go.

She sighs. Maybe that angry parent was right (she cringes, recalling what the parent said, "You think you know these kids just 'cause you teach them every day, and you think you can come here with your stupid liberal ideas and your naiveté and your fancy degree and whatever, and make a difference, but you just can't! And how dare you assume this is what our kids want! They're fifteen! They don't _know_ what they want!"), Rachel means well, but she probably does not know what she is doing now, anymore than she knew what she was doing in high school, or when she was in NYADA or when she was in Broadway. And making those decisions, foolish they may be, have made things worse.

Presently, she hears movement from behind and sees a groggy Suzie with a curious, puzzled expression on her face.

"Hey, sweetie," she says to the girl, "What are you doing up?"

"I was thirsty, Mee," the girl says, approaching her. "What are _you_ doing up?"

Rachel shrugs as she puts her hand on the girl's shoulder, then back and pulls her towards herself, gives her a hug. "Nothing."

The girl looks up at her and says, matter-of-factly, "You don't look okay."

Rachel smiles. "Well, there's no hiding anything from you, is there?"

Suzie smiles, hugging her back. "Don't feel bad, Mee. It's going to be alright, okay?"

"Aaaw, honey," Rachel says, touched by Suzie's concern for her.

Rachel and Suzie are silent as they hug each other in the darkness.

Presently, Suzie speaks up. "I heard this really great story from Miss Jones today."

"What?" Rachel asks, remembering that Miss Jones is Suzie's favorite teacher at school.

"Well, she said there was this old man taking a long walk down a beach one morning," Suzie starts. "It had been high tide the day before and a lot of starfish had been washed onshore. And I mean lots of it. Really, really lots of it."

Rachel laughs as Suzie breaks away from her hug from Rachel to throw her arms wide and make a face to emphasize how many starfish were washed ashore. "Okay, sweetie, I get it…go on…"

"And as the old man was walking down the shore…he sees this little boy running up and down the beach, picking up starfish randomly all over the place and running towards the edge of the water and throwing it into the surf," Suzie continues, moving back and making a wide motion with her arm, as if she is throwing a starfish into the ocean. She changes her voice, as she shifts from old man to young boy and back, whispers and raises her voice, making Rachel grin. "The old man watches and the little boy keeps picking up starfish and throwing them into the sea. The old man was curious because it seemed pretty pointless to him. So he goes up to the boy and asks, curiously, 'Young man, what do you think you're doing?' And the young boy says, 'Why, I'm throwing back the starfish into the sea so they don't _die_.' The old man says, 'But young man, there are too many starfish on the shore. They will die anyway. Seems pretty pointless to me!' Then the young boy looks at the man, then at the starfish, picks up another one and throws it into the sea. Then the boy smiles at the old man and says, 'I made a difference to that one'!"

Rachel smiles at Suzie. She knows this story, vaguely, perhaps Tipper Potts may have even mentioned it once before. It surprises her that Suzie would be the one to remind her of this now. She has not thought of this story in a while. She says, "That's a lovely story, honey. Do you know what it means?"

"Of course!" Suzie says. "It means…" and here she thinks for a moment and then says, "It means, sometimes, we think…what we do doesn't matter, or it sucks…or whatever…but it does…and even if there are old men out there who think everything's pretty pointless, it's fine, because you've made a difference to the starfish in your life." Suzie stops, hugs Rachel and says, "I know you've been sad these past few days, Mee, but don't feel bad anymore. I think you're awesome and you shouldn't feel bad. The starfish think you're awesome, too!"

Rachel stares at the girl, equal parts amazed and proud of this girl and she is silent, for a while before she says, "Sweetie, did I ever tell you how proud I am of you?"

"Yup. I know." Suzie grins. "I love starfish! Almost as much as I love ducks and dolphins! Dolphins are gay sharks, you know. Mommy used to say."

Rachel chuckles. "Yes, she did, didn't she? I love starfish, too."

Suzie hugs her even tighter and says, "Hang in there, Mee. You know what they say…"

"What _do_ they say?"

"When life gives you lemons, squeeze them in someone's eye," Suzie says. "Or something."

Rachel knits her brows. "Sweetie, I'm pretty sure that's not how the saying goes."

"Yeah, it is," Suzie insists. "And they also say, it's always darkest during a blackout." When Rachel smiles, Suzie says, "Or is that, it's always darkest before somebody turns on the light? Or it's always darkest before the show starts?"

As Rachel chuckles softly, they hear a door creak open, the shuffle of feet towards the door and they both see Santana's unmistakable form by the living room doorway, leaning on it, rubbing her eyes, one arm hugging herself, pulling her robe closer to herself. Rachel says, "Hey."

"Hey. Why are you both up?" Santana asks, groggily. "I can hear you guys talking from in there. Why can't you be like normal people and talk during the day?"

"Sorry," Rachel and Suzie both say at the same time.

"What are you guys doing anyway?" Santana asks, yawning, walking towards both of them. She ruffles Suzie's head as she comes up to Rachel. "Are you having a family conference? Without me? Because you guys know I hate it when you do that."

"Yeah, mom, we're trying to decide how we can make you eat more vegetarian stuff," Suzie teases her.

Santana makes a face. "Aren't you supposed to be in bed, kiddo?" she asks the girl. Then she turns to Rachel and asks, "And aren't you supposed to be in bed, snoring?"

"Hey!" Rachel asks. "How dare you! _You're_ the one who snores!"

Santana laughs. "I do _not_. What are you guys doing here anyway?"

"Suzie was telling me something about starfish and how it's always darkest during a blackout or something," Rachel says, smiling. "I'm still figuring out what she actually means."

"Mee says she's okay, but she's really not because when I asked her she said nothing…" Suzie informs Santana. Then Suzie turns to Rachel and says, "When you say nothing, it usually means something," and then Suzie and Santana finish the sentence together, "And when it's something, it usually means something big."

Rachel laughs and shakes her head. "What am I going to do with the two of you?"

Santana and Suzie both grin.

Suddenly, Suzie says, "Hey, Mee…"

"What?"

Suzie replies by singing,

"_The sun'll come out tomorrow_

_bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow there'll be sun_

_Just thinkin' about tomorrow_

_Clears away the cobwebs and the sorrow till there's none…_"

Rachel laughs and rolls her eyes. "Too easy. The title is, of course, 'Tomorrow' from the Broadway musical, 'Annie'. My turn…"

"'_I can't light no more of your darkness  
All my pictures seem to fade to black and white  
I'm growing tired and time stands still before me  
Frozen here on the ladder of my life…'"_

Santana laughs, "That's _way_ too easy. 'Don't Let the Sun Go Down On Me'. Elton John. And also, gay much? My turn!"

"'_Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter, _

_little darling, it feels like __years since it's been here__…_'"

Rachel and Suzie both say, at the same time, "'Here Comes the Sun'! By the Beatles!"

When Santana stares at them in disbelief, Rachel says, "You like The Beatles."

"Yeah," Suzie echoes, nodding. "I _so_ knew you were going to sing a Beatles song, mom!"

"Hey, shouldn't you be going back to bed right about now, kiddo?" Santana says, putting her arms on her hips and arms akimbo, looking at her daughter with stern eyes.

"Okay, okay, I'm going," Suzie says. She turns to Rachel and hugs her, "Good night, Mee." Then she goes to Santana and says, "Good night, Mom."

"Good night," the two women say as Suzie turns and waves and goes back to her room and they hear the door close behind her.

Santana now comes up to her from behind, puts her arm around Rachel's waist, rests her chin on Rachel's shoulder and asks softly, "You okay? It's that thing that your principal talked to you about, isn't it?"

Rachel is quiet as her right hand covers Santana's own and her other hand reaches back and touches Santana's cheek. She feels Santana's lips, warm and moist, press itself against Rachel's neck, as Santana pulls her closer towards herself. Rachel can feel Santana's warmth through the robe, feels the press of soft breasts against Rachel's back, Santana's body molding itself perfectly into Rachel's.

Rachel had told Santana about it that night after her talk with the principal, waiting until Suzie is fast asleep before telling her and Santana had listened, facial expression going from the stoic, attorney-at-law face Santana uses in the courtroom, to increasingly angry, forehead furrowed, eyebrows knitting, lips suddenly turning into a scowl, eyes flashing and by the time Rachel is finished, Santana is positively fuming. Away from Suzie's prying eyes and impressionable ears, the curse words start to come, in English and Spanish, Santana's tightly controlled, low angry voice hissing as she curses faceless people, angry at what had been done to Rachel. "Don't they know people like you are one of a kind?" Santana had demanded, furious that they would criticize her teaching methods, literary choices and her sexuality. "They should thank you for making their kids _read_. For teaching them how to love _music_. For being there for their kids! All that time spent with their kids is time spent away from your family!" Santana says, angrily. And Santana is right of course, and Rachel does not know what to say when Santana says this. Santana insists that as her lawyer, they should go to court with this, or at least let her firm go to court with this. Santana mentions Miranda Vanderbilt could totally handle this case as she specializes in labor rights and issues, but since Miranda is being transferred to California, Santana might be able to do it in lieu of her. Rachel refuses though. As with anything that involves litigation, it could take long and it would drag on into years before anything is settled. She would much rather move on, she says. Santana accepts this, but with strong reservations.

The anger has now dissipated, and all Santana seems now is worried, wary, suspicious about what is going to happen next at Taft High. She can sense Santana's feeling of helplessness, her frustration at being unable to make it all better for Rachel, but Rachel feels her holding her now, and she feels reassured somehow.

"You want to talk about it?" Santana offers now, as she moves to nuzzle the crook on Rachel's neck.

Rachel is silent for a few moments, aware of Santana's nearness behind her. Then she speaks up. "I should have done more, San. I should have…I don't know…paid attention more…" She sighs. "Maybe I should have done more home visits. Maybe I should have…"

Her voice trails off. She feels a lump in her throat. Like she cannot bring the rest of the words out. Santana is equally as silent for a few minutes.

"Baby… You did the best you could. With what you had. You were good to those kids and you know it and _they_ know it,"Santana begins, carefully. "But sometimes... you can't teach the homophobia away. Much less sing it away. Anymore than you can pray the gay away. Some people are just born assholes and exist to ruin good things. Besides, these aren't little kids, they're teenagers, you're not their babysitter. I'm sure they're pretty capable of taking care of themselves."

Rachel nods absently. Suddenly she asks, "Was it this hard for you when Finn outed you in high school?"

"Oh, god, yes!" Santana says now. "And I'd had a couple of boys telling me all I needed was a good fuck to cure the gayness. You remember the one, at my locker. If I had any lingering doubts about being gay that day, that boy telling me that, that totally disappeared that day. But I got over it."

When Rachel does not say anything, Santana nudges her gently and says, "Hey, I'm sorry you had to go through this. If you weren't with me…"

Rachel shakes her head. "No, no. Don't think that. Don't ever think that. Our relationship has nothing to do with this. People are just idiots, that's all."

"And just impossibly bigoted and biased and homophobic," Santana adds, "And also racist and sexist and misogynistic." They fall into comfortable silence again before Santana suddenly asks, tone light, in an attempt to lighten the mood, "Do you want me to put a hit out on Mrs. Goldman? Or at least, scare her up a bit?"

Rachel rolls her eyes. "No. And won't you get disbarred for that anyway?"

"I was kidding," Santana says, chuckling softly as she moves again to nuzzle the side of Rachel's neck.

Rachel feels Santana's lips again, on her neck, her jaw, her cheeks, and she shifts just in time to meet Santana's lips in a kiss. She turns, puts her hand up on Santana's neck, as she kisses Santana more. Santana's right hand come up to the small of Rachel's back, the other hand snaking inside Rachel's robe, rubbing the skin of Rachel's waist. Santana's hand is warm, soft, against Rachel's skin and there's a gentle flare of desire deep within Rachel as Santana moves to kiss Rachel's throat, and kisses a trail down her chest before her lips meet Rachel's again in a deep, shattering kiss. She tugs at Santana and they end up in bed, Santana on top of her as Santana whispers, "I love you…" Rachel nods, whispers it back, shifts so Santana can get between her legs. She just wants Santana now, this way, on their bed, because this is the only thing that makes sense now, Santana's love for her, her love for Santana. So Santana kisses her and touches her and lavishes her skin with kisses, and Rachel feels it, building deep inside her, ocean spray turning into waves that build and build and build to such a crescendo she cannot bear it and Santana senses it, kisses her tenderly, sinks into her, gently, slowly, pushes and pulls in a soothing rhythm that calms her and she feels it, the surge of love for her and Rachel clings to her, holds her as Santana whispers, over and over again, "I love you. Everything's going to be fine, okay? Everything's going to be fine."

Rachel nods and buries her face in Santana's neck as she comes in Santana's arms.

* * *

Everything is going to be fine, Santana says. But it isn't.

* * *

And it is not a ripple effect or a butterfly effect so much as a snowball effect - in which one tiny little insignificant detail as music can change kids' lives and the kids' Glee Club adviser and teacher might be gay - becomes the only thing that people want to talk about. And talk about they did. And with Mrs. Goldman at the helm, it is not long before the school board hears about it.

The news comes to Rachel a few days after. Principal Abrams says it is not because of the lifestyle complaint the parents raised, it was mostly because they are cutting funding for the Glee Club anyway, and he and the teachers' union had not successfully negotiated the terms of the school reform they were discussing with the school board. In a few months, some teachers will be losing their jobs, because of the complete reform the school board wants for the whole school district. The first to go would be the teachers with no tenure, including Rachel. Rachel takes this news quietly, stoically, in Principal Abrams' office. Principal Abrams says she can finish up her classes only up to at least the middle of March but the Glee Club has to close, although they can compete for the semi-finals should they still want to. But Rachel has to go. She just has to turn in the necessary paperwork, the lesson plans, to bring the substitute teacher up to speed with her classes. For some strange reason, all Rachel can think of is a spaced out, weird Miss Holiday copycat who wouldn't be able teach her classes as well as she does. There is a lot unsaid in their conversation, but Rachel is too tired to argue or fight it, so she accepts what Principal Abrams says.

Santana wants to fight it. Really, really wants to fight it. Because Rachel is awesome and extraordinary and the one thing Santana cannot stand is the hurt and pain on Rachel's face as Rachel cries. Santana says, "That's discrimination, baby. It's illegal dismissal. And it's illegal dismissal based on your sexual orientation. It's covered by the constitution. Never mind that they're saying it's because of that fucked up school reform, funding cuts whatever. We can totally prove it and sue Taft, the school board, even Mrs. Goldman for all they've got and win this!"

But Rachel refuses, is too tired to fight it and begins the long, arduous task of doing the inventory of her stuff at school so she can more systematically pack them and bring them home without any of the kids learning about it.

* * *

The semi-finals come and go. Again, Taft High's Brooklyn Beatz qualifies. Along with Vocal Adrenaline and inexplicably, New Directions. The competitions itself go by in a blur. Rachel feels like she is going through the motions, when she conducts for the club during the contest. It helps that they all know the songs by heart by now and she can detach herself from leading the club, seeing herself as if like a ghost, high above the auditorium, hands flailing, fingers moving around in the air as if playing with the piano as she gestures for them to go slow and soft for the first stanzas of "If I Ain't Got You", then go louder when they get to the Spanish chorus, then go softer and somber when they end the song, then indicating that they start and maintain a bright and staccato tone for Bob Marley's "No Woman, No Cry", letting the girls, then the boys take each stanza before coming together for the chorus, whilst for "No Woman, No Cry", the kids speed up and slow down for some stanzas, tightly controlled voices going over each note with the confidence of having practiced the song over and over again. It is a bittersweet victory for Rachel, especially since the kids do not know about what has happened. When the host announces that Brooklyn Beatz has entered the Grand Finals, Rachel develops a lump in her throat and her eyes go watery and there is a wave of sadness that goes through her as, through blurry eyes she sees her students jump up and down in disbelief and joy and excitement. Her students have never achieved something as big as this before, and as they look at her with such happiness, she is saddened that she may never see these kids again…

* * *

Rachel's kids are surprised that day when Rachel asks them to follow her to the indoor gym. They listen carefully and wonder why she is holding a basketball, and why there is a CD player and a small box by her feet. She has not told them that she is leaving soon, and will not be finishing the school year with them. She looks at them now and wishes she could say more, tell them that though the world can be crap sometimes, that they are going to make it, that everything is going to be alright. But she can have this session instead, and if she is leaving soon, she might as well go out with a bang. She has nothing to lose anyway.

Rachel begins. "Okay, people, this is a ball…"

"Yeah, Miz B, we can see that…"

"I know you can," Rachel says, grinning. She realizes she will miss these kids.

"What's this about, Miz B?" Baz asks, curious.

"What's this about?" Rachel repeats. "This is about expressing yourself. Poetry is about expressing yourself. I know you guys already know that, judging by the uh, very interesting poems you've created thus far in our class. What we're going to do now is express ourselves through poetry, basketball and music."

"I like the sound of that." Baz grins, crossing his arms in front of his chest, nodding his head in approval.

"Because, sometimes, doesn't the world just piss you off?" Rachel asks.

The students are taken aback by what Rachel says.

"Uh, yeah…" Baz replies uncertainly.

"Doesn't the world just make you want to scream and hit someone and grab stuff and smash them against the wall?" Rachel asks.

"Hell, yeah!" Baz, Jamal, McG and Kareem all say at the same time.

"What pisses you off?" she asks them.

"Math!" "English! Sorry Miz B, but sometimes it don't make sense, y'all!" "Homework!" "Parents!" "Girls!" "Boys!" "Rude customers!" "Rude drivers!" "Rude people in general!" "Being broke!" "Cops!" "Racist people!" "Stupid, pointless but really addictive TV shows that don't make sense!" "Sequels!" "When you miss your period!" "When your girlfriend misses her period!" "Rules!"

Rachel nods. "Great! Sometimes, we just have to let all that out. Now, I want you all to pick a piece of paper from this box..." She indicates the box by her feet. "Scream it out loud, and shoot the ball."

"Cool! I'm down with that!" Baz says. The others nod.

"Okay," Rachel says. She leans over and starts playing the CD player and the first strains of Tchaikovsky's "181 2 Overture" start playing as the kids crowd around Rachel to pick pieces of paper. "As American poet Robert Frost said, _'A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.'_" Find your words in this box, and let it all out."

"_To be, or not to be, that is the question!"_ Hannah says a line from Shakespeare's "Hamlet" above the din of Tchaikovsky's music before she shoots the ball into the hoop from the three-point line.

"_To thine own self be true!_" Maya reads from the same Shakespearean play before she shoots the ball with perfect ease.

Dubs reads, _"I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith."_

Anferny quietly reads another line from one of Shakespeare plays and shoots the ball after,

"_We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;  
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me  
Shall be my brother…"_

McG steps forward and reads Robert Frost,

"_Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -_

_I took the one less traveled by, _

_And that has made all the difference."_

Jamal follows by reading the following from J.R.R. Tolkien's "The Lord of the Rings":

"_Out of doubt out of dark, to the day's rising,  
I came singing in the sun, sword unsheathing,  
To hope's end I rode and heart's breaking,  
Now for wrath, now for ruin, and a red nightfall."_

Then Baz steps forward, and before he shoots the ball he reads out the line from Maya Angelou's "Phenomenal Woman" to the snickers and open laughter of the other students, and Rachel shaking her head,

"_The span of my hips, _

_The stride of my step, _

_The curl of my lips. _

_I'm a woman _

_Phenomenally. _

_Phenomenal woman, _

_That's me!"_

Kenyatta steps forward and announces, "This line be sexist but I like what it says…" then proceeds to read John Donne:

"_No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main...any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee." _

Before Kareem shoots the ball he proudly throws his hands out and shouts lines from Langston's Hughes' poem,

_"I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart, _

_I am the Negro bearing slavery's scars. _

_I am the red man driven from the land, _

_I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek - _

_And finding only the same old stupid plan _

_Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak."_

"Do not go gently into the night…Rage, rage against the dying of the light!"

"I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul!"

"To be, indeed, a God!"

After they shoot balls and to the sound of Tchaikovsky still playing in the background, she makes each one stand around the gym at equal distance from each other as she instructs each one to pay attention to what they are seeing. There are a few jokes here in there ("I see Anderson's ass!" "There's nothing to see!" "It's cold, y'all!" "I don't see the point, y'all!" "Wow, all you guys is ugly from this level!") but they see how serious Rachel is and for the most part look around, with half-smiles and smirks on their faces, paying attention to what they see. Then Rachel says, "Now I want you all to run up to the highest part of the bleachers, and take a look around again." The students look at her again, puzzled, but when they see her glare, they all grudgingly climb up the bleachers with much complaining and groaning. When they are up the bleachers, all Rachel says is, "Now, I just want you to keep reminding yourself, whenever you feel stuck, or down, to look at the world differently always. Challenge what you think is possible. Right now, all you guys must see are just young kids, maybe with uncertain futures. Maybe you're worried about whether you're going to pass your classes, whether you're going to graduate next year or not, whether you're going to pass your SATs or not, whether you're going to ever get laid or not" - at this a lot of the boys and a few of the girls laugh - "But what I see? Is possibility and potential. Today is the beginning of the rest of your lives. Make it count."

* * *

She attends the last student assembly for the school year. It is her last day. Gloria and Mr. Smith have expressed much dismay and outrage at what has been done to her, first by the school, then the school board, but mostly for Mrs. Goldman and her ilk. They sit by her now, at the edge of the first row of chairs in the auditorium, still livid and silently giving Principal Abrams the evil eye as he steps onto the stage and makes mundane announcements about the junior and senior prom, parent and teacher night, homecoming king and queen, briefly lets the senior class president make his own mundane announcements before Principal Abrams again takes to the stage with more of the same announcements. Rachel cannot recall student assemblies being this boring, or school activities like proms and voting for homecoming king and queen being incredibly shallow and pointless but now she does and she cringes at how much she used to want this kind of things when she was in high school.

Taft High's Brooklyn Beatz have both gained notoriety and popularity and though the kids are unaware that the arts program is going to be cut, they are invited to perform for the student assembly and they happily accept. The Glee kids insist on wearing purple, because, as Baz says, "We like 'The Color Purple',Miz B!"

The Glee kids do not know she has essentially been let go as part of the new school policy reforms for Taft High and the rest of the school district, and she wants it like this, wants to quietly disappear, wants to nurse her wounds in private, wants to move on just as quickly. Right now, sitting here, watching something like this, realizing she is no longer a part of it, she can already feel herself slowly detaching, just to make the pain, the hurt go away. And whenever she sees Principal Abrams, she feels the anger flash up again, only to die away again when she realizes it is really not Principal Abrams' fault at all.

When Principal Abrams presently calls on the Brooklyn Beatz, and steps off the stage to give room for the group and there is genuine, excited applause, a few wolf whistles and screams, Rachel feels a small twist of pain in her gut. She claps heartily along with the others, putting on a fake smile on her face for the sake of her kids and the co-workers sitting beside her.

But the kids do not stand up and the clapping dies down uncertainly. Rachel wonders why the stage continues to be empty, Rachel looks around and sees the kids in the middle of the auditorium, sitting there as two rows of kids, in purple shirts (Rachel notes that Baz's has "I love vaginas" on it), arms folded in front of them as they sit back, unmoving. The other kids and some of the teachers glance around, turn their heads, wondering where the club they are waiting for is not coming on stage.

Principal Abrams comes to the stage again, scratching his balding head, sheepish and puzzled as he steps forward to the microphone and calls out Brooklyn Beatz again.

Rachel knits her eyebrows and turns around, tries to make eye contact with her kids, tries to will them to go to the stage because she already knows these kids might get into trouble if they do not do so, but the kids sit, motionless, on their chairs. One of them actually leans back, puts his feet up and a couple of them follow.

There is a buzz that slowly starts among the students now, who are listless and bored and distracted and want to know why the Beatz (as they have started to call the club) are not coming on. The other students crane their necks and stare at the purple-clad Glee Club kids sitting in the middle of the auditorium, lifeless and defiant. It reminds Rachel a little of the first time she started teaching these very same students, when they refused to participate or even answer during roll call.

As the buzz rises up, Baz suddenly stands up and says, "Mr. A! We heard you gonna let Miz B go!"

"Uh, Miss Berry is still part of our faculty…" Principal Abrams answers.

"Screw that! You letting her go, aren't you?"

"I'm…not at liberty to say…"

"You did, didn't you?" Baz accuses him. "You let go of the one teacher who actually cared enough to teach us," Baz says angrily.

"Mr. Henry James Carter Parks," Principal Abrams says to the snicker of the other students, "Please refrain from causing trouble or you will be given detention."

"Detention? You messin' with me, right?" Baz says. "Miz B saved my _life_!"

"A two-week suspension, would you prefer that, Mr. Parks?" Principal Abrams says.

"You let her go because she be a good teacher and she don't take shit from us and she makes us work for our grades and drives us crazy with her classes and homework and stuff, didn't you?" Baz says now, voice loud and clear. "But most of all, you let her go because our parents thought she gay, isn't it?"

"A one-month suspension, Mr. Parks, would you prefer that?" Principal Abrams asks now, threateningly.

"Because last time I checked, being gay ain't contagious!" Baz continues, unfazed by Principal Abrams' threat. "Because if it is, and I be spending so much time with Miz B, then I'm gay." And Baz stands on his chair, plants his feet firmly on the ground, folds his arms in front of him, and stares sullenly at Principal Abrams. "Miz B told us once that sometimes we should be looking at the world differently. Maybe you should, too."

Oh _shit_, Rachel thinks to herself, nervously, even as she feels her heart pounding inside her chest. Please stop, please don't do anything stupid, she silently says to the other kids. At the same time though, she cannot help the surge of pride she feels for this boy who is slowly becoming the kind of adult she is sure he is becoming. Eat your heart out, Mr. Schuester, she thinks to herself, remembering those times when Finn and the boys _claimed_ that Mr. Schuester had made a man of them.

Meanwhile, there is a shocked silence as everyone takes this in. Nobody moves. One could hear a pin drop in the deafening silence.

Suddenly, there is a movement, a noise, as of someone getting up and everyone looks and it is Kareem, standing on his chair, as well. He says, "Well, Miz B taught me that trying is better than not trying at all. I spent the same amount of time with Miz B, so I guess I must be gay, too!"

McG proudly gets up, and proclaims, "Well, if they be gay, then I be gay, too! Because we were all with Miz B practicing twenty four seven! She taught me the value of hard work, y'all! Singing makes you gay, y'all!"

"Singing _and_ dancing make you twice as gay," Abdul adds, standing up, "So I guess I'm gay,too!"

Anferny stands up. "Miz B helped us think about college and our futures. She be awesome like that. Yeah, I'm gay!"

Isabelle gets up and Ruth is holding her hand and she says, "Miz B taught us to be just ourselves. We're both in Glee Club, so we're gay, too."

"Well, hallelujah! I got the gay disease, too!" Kenyatta suddenly says, getting up, hands flailing up in the air like she is possessed, as she jumps up to her seat. "It's all in the water."

One by one Rachel's Glee Club students get up and declare that they are gay.

"I'm not gay," Anderson, a student from Rachel's literature class, says, "But I've been Miz B's student since last year and I like her class 'cause she be listening to us and making us read and shit so I guess I might be gay, too, y'all! And I take it like a man, yo!"

Rachel closes her eyes, feels her face burn, and her hand flies up to her face, embarrassed at what is happening. She hears the sounds, as of people shuffling, the movement of feet, the titter and creak as she senses people either getting up and leaving or something. She cannot believe this is happening.

Presently Gloria nudges her so her eyes fly open, and when she does, she can see her students from her literature classes also standing up, proclaiming their gayness.

This puts the student assembly in a frenzy as kids randomly shout being gay and stand up in support of Baz and the Glee Club and the rest of Rachel's students and Rachel herself.

"This is an outrage!" Principal Abrams says now, as he motions for the guards strategically standing by the doorways to restore order in the auditorium.

One of the guards shakes his head, leans against the doorway and says, with a smirk on his face, "Well, sorry, I'm gay, too."

Rachel and Gloria look at each other and giggle.

"Mr. Smith," Principal Abrams orders the teacher, nodding to him to come help him restore order.

But Mr. Smith just shakes his head, stands up, crosses his arms in front of him and says, "Well, I'm gay, too."

Then Gloria springs into action as well, tells Rachel, "Oh, hell, I might lose my job anyway. What have I got to lose?" And then she stands up and happily says, "I think women are hot! And I watch the L-Word! And I enjoyed it! And I'm friends with Rachel! So I guess I'm gay, too!"

Rachel, face flushed, looks around now and sees that most of the people, in the auditorium, students and teachers alike, are standing up for her. Despite herself, she feels a lump form in her throat as she watches these faces, faces she knows, faces that she doesn't, standing up in support of her, and she feels like crying. The tears well up unbidden and she fights it as Baz speaks up.

Baz says, "Principal Abrams, if you don't like gay teachers, or teachers who you be thinking are gay, then blame straight parents. They be the ones who keep having those _damn_ gay babies!"

"Young man, sit down!" Principal Abrams says. "And may I remind you that that kind of language is not tolerated here!"

"Well, you wanted us to sing, right? Well, we be singing then!" Baz says. He then turns to Rachel a few rows in front and says, with a smile, "This is for you, Miz B! Music is life! We got one life to live, y'all! We be making it count! Hit it!"

Rachel smiles, recognizing what Baz has said as something that she has told them before. And the Glee Club starts singing the first stanza of "Seasons of Love":

"_Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes_

_Five hundred twenty five thousand six moments so dear_

_Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes_

_How do you measure,_

_Measure a year?"_

As they start singing the song, the other students start to clap in rhythm, stamping their feet as the Beatz start singing the rest of the song.

"_In daylights, in sunsets_

_In midnights, in cups of coffee_

_In inches, in miles_

_In laughter, in strife_

_In five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes_

_How do you measure a year in the life?"_

When the Beatz get to the chorus, the other kids now give them an appreciative applause, shouts of encouragement, and the sea of faces, now a blur for the unshed tears welling up in Rachel's eyes, seem to sway as one, some with eyes closed, some with hands up in the air, some bobbing their heads, those who know the lyrics singing along with the Beatz.

"_How about love? How about love? How about love? _

_Measure in love_

_Seasons of love_

_Seasons of love…"_

Through her tears, Rachel looks at her kids and thinks she has never been prouder of her kids than at the moment.

Maybe Tipper Potts and Suzie are right after all.

Maybe one person _can_ make a difference after all.

* * *

**_Author's end notes:_**

**_That's it for this chapter! Your (kind) reviews would be awesome and much appreciated!_**

**_Must say, I really enjoyed writing this chapter (and this is probably my favorite). This story has been building up to culminate here, with this one chapter, and this has been waiting to be written since Day One. ;) My whole point and why I wrote this in the first place is in this chapter. ;) And also, also, because Glee has always had an issue with its representation of girls, women, teachers and so on (this is what my beta and I want to watch on Glee and will never do, and we also want Anna Farris on Glee, darn it!). But the writing speaks for itself! All I want to say is, this is for all the people, including teachers, who inspire and continue to make a difference in the world (including you dear readers, esp. those who review and my beta as well, since you inspire me). :)_**

**_There will be a couple more chapters or so and I think this story will be done. :) Again, I'd like to thank everyone for reading and reviewing the story and the many chapters that came before this. I hadn't expected this story to expand itself and to go this far, but I guess the story just unfolded as I started writing it. I'd love to hear your kind reviews on this chapter, and for those who just read it, would love to read what you think as well. Especially since I'm thinking of taking a break from writing Pezberry - because this story has exhausted me (unless you want more? hahah!_ :)_ let me know! _:)_ Must say I really love this couple though!). hahah! Each chapter goes through numerous drafts before the final product, and so I would like to thank my beta, DragonsWillFly, who patiently goes over each draft and inspires and encourages and makes me laugh even though the beta is stressed and tired and overworked. :) So, thanks beta! ;)_**

**_To MelovePezberry - Glad you loved that the kids did so well. :) As for Santana and Rachel at the restaurant - yes, they do make a cute couple don't they? Glad you found the "making-up-conversations-about-what-other-people's-lives-are-like" funny - I like to think that's why they go great together as a couple, because they're both really smart and talented and fun! :) As for Santana and Kurt - please refer to Parker88's review - it's quite a nice insight into the friendship/relationship. ;) As for the cliffhanger- so sorry. :-) Does this chapter make up for it? :) Thanks for reading and reviewing!_**

**_To amazinglife18 - First off, thanks for loving the BB's performance! Glad you loved it! As for Miz B being fierce - of course! Haha! I still think she would totally be a better Glee Club adviser than 10 Mr. Schuesters combined (and a certain Finn Hudson!), because unlike them, she actually KNOWS what she's doing and she's just…AWESOME! :) Yes, in my mind too, Rachel is extraordinary. ;) As for the Jesse and Kurt - yes, it's a bit ironic, isn't it? As for the Santana and Rachel date - yes, it IS cute, and I must agree, they are the MOST ADORABLE couple ever! ;) As for the wedding, have got to wait and find out! ;) Also, thanks for the trust and support! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thanks for reading and reviewing!_**

**_To parker88 - Glad you are happy re: Brooklyn Beatz making it to the semi-finals. As for Suzie and Kurt, glad you love Suzie traumatizing Kurt with the "girl talk". As for the Santana/Kurt friendship, yes, wanted to have that fine balance of endearing and funny. :) Glad you loved date night and the Pezberry (they're seriously fun to write together!) :) Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thanks for reading and reviewing as always!_**

**_To kutee - Thanks for reading and reviewing! Quarter-finals was interesting yes? :) As for Santana and Kurt - hahaha! (actually, Parker88 had an interesting insight on this. ;))As for your other concerns…hope you're okay even with this chapter!_**

**_To Guest - Thanks for reading and reviewing!_**

**_To SoFlaComet -Re: Date night was sweet, interaction between Rachel and Santana - Yes, thought maybe a date night was due this couple. Thanks for reading and reviewing! And you're welcome!_**

**_Acknowledgments_****_:_**

**_The Star Thrower by Loren Eisley_**

**_Lines from poems taken from the following:_**

**_"Let America Be America Again" by Langston Hughes_**

**_"Phenomenal Woman" by Maya Angelou_**

**_William Shakespeare plays_**

**_Walt Whitman, from his book, "Leaves of Grass"_**

**_Dylan Thomas_**

**_J.R.R. Tolkien from his book, "The Lord of the Rings"_**

**_"The Road Less Taken" by Robert Frost_**

**_Music featured (and I seriously suggest you check this out to help with the emotional tone of the chapter):_**

**_1812 Overture by Tchaikovsky_**

**_"Tomorrow" from the musical "Annie"_**

**_"Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me" by Elton John_**

**_"Here Comes the Sun" by The Beatles_**

**_"Seasons of Love" from the musical "Rent" (reprise)_**

**_And also, feel free to check out the songs Santana sings when she has that "name-that-tune" game with Rachel - just because it's fun. _:)**


	26. The Power of One

_**Author's note: Dear readers, Chapter 26 is up! Happy reading!**_

* * *

Rachel Berry has fallen in and out of love, had her heart broken and pieced back together, lost her innocence, made love, sworn off love, created life, destroyed life, led revolutions, toppled dynasties, built regimes, led mundane lives, lived and died and lived again, experienced tragedy and comedy, the supernatural and the fantastic, the absurd and the silly and the campy along with the melancholic, the subdued, the dark…in fact, possibly the whole expanse of the many possible permutations of the human experience all under the glare of stage lights and the sound of weeping violins and the sometimes wild, sometimes tepid applause of the ever critical, hard to please audience of critics and theater lovers. She has done this onstage countless times, and like a switch that can be turned on and off, she can conjure emotions from the depths of her being, tap into a seemingly limitless reservoir from which she can draw inspiration for the many characters she plays onstage. But none of it was real. And all of it was real. And sometimes fiction and reality clashed with truths and untruths, blended, came together, so that sometimes, she lives both in the real world and in a fantasy realm filled with stories and characters and music and much applause. This is exactly why at first it almost seemed like she and Santana would not make it, much less get along. Rachel is a Broadway star after all, and made a living out of make-believe, of art as a means to tell beautiful lies, whilst Santana is a human rights lawyer and a single parent, her professional life rooted in the harsh realities of social inequality and social injustice and setting the world right one triumphant human rights case at a time, her personal life rooted in the tough realities of single parenthood and widowhood. And so whilst Rachel has been quite adept at fake tears and fake happiness and fake pathos and going out with either a big bang or a long, drawn-out sigh, her life, at first, with Santana and Suzie is a struggle to come back to real life, to deal with reality. Especially since Santana, being a trained lawyer, a trained performer herself inside and outside the courtroom, can see past every lie, every falseness that Rachel says or does, with a smirk and an amused glint in her eye. But being with Santana, these past five years, has made Rachel less the Broadway diva, soaring above the clouds, riding high on adulation and fame, and more the real person tethered to the earth by a love, a relationship and a domestic life, which, though not perfect, and sometimes mundane, are equal parts real and blissful, so as to be probably ridiculous to the people who had known Rachel all those years on Broadway.

And so, when life imitates art, Rachel, used to the fantastic and the tragi-comedy events that only happen in plays and movies and television shows but never in real life, is unprepared for it.

Taft High, its principal, the school board, the parents and the many teachers and students who supported the Beatz and their silent protest for Rachel Berry's callous dismissal for ambivalent (and people suspect, _gay_) reasons think that the small stand the Beatz make at the Taft High auditorium will end right then and there. The adults are confident that Taft's kids, never the bastions of consistency, perseverance and certainly not known for following through on anything (after all, Taft has a high dropout rate), would lose interest in what they think is just a trend in a host of trends kids pick up and discard like last season's fashion, this time: music and fighting against what they perceive is injustice and unfairness done to their beloved teacher and Glee Club adviser.

And for a while it would seem like this is the case.

In any case, the protest in the auditorium does nothing to reinstate Rachel as teacher and Glee Club adviser anyway. It is just one of many disappointments that the students would just have to deal with.

And Rachel makes her students promise to finish the school year and the rest of high school, for what, she asks them, is the point of giving them the A's they worked so hard for if they were just going to squander it by protesting against her dismissal? "I appreciate what you did," she tells them, "But what's done is done. That's just the way it is. You have to move on, graduate, show them what you've got. That's how you can pay me back…By paying it forward. Success after all, is the best form of revenge." The students listen and grudgingly go back to their classes.

But true to being Rachel Berry's kids, they do something different entirely.

They do something else.

Something that Rachel does not expect.

Something more...

* * *

Rachel never hears all of this until later. After she says her goodbyes to her students and co-teachers with hugs and tears and wordless, awkward farewells, and extracts the promise from her Glee kids and students to finish the school year and high school itself, she leaves Taft High determined to hold her head high, put on a brave face and move on with her life. She goes home on her last day of work at Taft High, never betraying the pain she feels, especially in front of Suzie. But later that night, in the privacy of their bedroom, she lets her guard down and breaks down in Santana's arms, sobbing silently, as Santana holds her and caresses her, and Santana never lets her go until she falls asleep.

The next few days are hard for Rachel, and she spends her days moping around the house, eyes puffy and red, as she binges on Cheetos, whipped cream, potato chips, ice cream and chocolate. Santana allows her a couple of days of moping around the house, but when she comes home one late afternoon with Suzie in tow and sees her would-be wife lying on the living room couch, in a near catatonic state, staring mindlessly at the television, watching Jersey Shore (which they both dislike) Santana makes a face and against her better judgment, calls her back-up plan: Kurt Hummel.

Kurt comes and pulls Rachel out of the house for some much needed retail therapy. Whilst it takes much energy and the combined, concerted efforts of Santana, Kurt and Suzie and Suzie's Kate, to pull Rachel out of her funk, they do succeed in at least making her leave the apartment. They take Rachel to a couple of shopping centers and Rachel is unresponsive. Kurt thinks this is worse than when, right after high school graduation, Finn unceremoniously dumped Rachel at the Lima train station on the day they were supposed to be married. But then, they take Rachel to the massive Macy's Department Store downtown and that seems to help a little. If there is one department store that is good for letting someone forget oneself and get lost in "the mindless capitalism that is America's eternal legacy" as Rachel describes it to Kurt's eye-rolling and Santana's approving smile, that would be Macy's. Looking at everything that Macy has to offer certainly helps distract Rachel from the depressing turn of events in her life: jobless, directionless, with nowhere to go and much uncertainty in her future. "'There are no second acts in American life'," Hiram Berry, quoting F. Scott Fitzgerald, used to tell her, as both warning and encouragement, whenever she failed at something, or wanted to give up or felt sad or depressed and so this makes her feel more depressed, knowing there might never be a second act in her life, too. She might be exaggerating her current state of affairs and it is certainly not the first time she has done so, but it does feel like that. But Macy's certainly does take her mind off of things, even for just a moment.

Kurt and Santana wander off to separate sections (Kurt in the footwear and Santana in the women's clothing section) whilst Suzie and Kate stick with Rachel, Suzie clasping Rachel's hand like Rachel might suddenly disappear. And people jostle them and push and pull and there seem to be more people at this place than anywhere else and it's not even a spring sale and it simultaneously puzzles and irritates Rachel, but Suzie clings to her hand, oblivious and excited, pulling her along wherever she might fancy, whilst Kate follows along, walking beside Suzie, chatting with her. Though the two girls have mutually acknowledged that they like each other, Rachel and Santana and Kate's parents have decided that they are too young to actually date, but have agreed that the two can spend time together as long as they are in the presence of either one's parents and only if they are able to maintain their good grades in school. "So, they're basically dating, but with parental guidance," Santana jokes with a smirk, which earns her a glare from Rachel. Their classmates have taken to keeping away from Suzie and Kate as well, so much so that Suzie has cut down on the pranks and antics in school, although she is still very much capable of doing something spectacular, as when one of the boys had made fun of her favorite teacher, Miss Jones and Kate, and she managed to "blue" the boy from head to toe. "You _blued_ someone?!" Rachel had asked, incredulously, already not relishing the talk she would have with Mrs. Sheridan. "How on earth could you have _blued_ someone?" she asks, as Santana looked on with a very approving, proud look on her face, dropping the look only when Rachel glares at Santana. "Well, it really was pretty easy, Mee, I just…" Suzie starts to explain but then Rachel puts up her hands and says, "I really don't want to know, honey, and you know you're grounded, right?" "Aaaaw," the girl says, but Rachel knows she isn't really sorry at all, what with that face and that attitude that is pure Santana Lopez. Rachel is really just glad that Suzie has managed to keep the terrorizing at a minimum.

Rachel does not know now how she suddenly finds herself at the toys section and she can tell this just from the many little, screaming chubby creatures with blonde hair or red hair or dark hair and blue eyes and green eyes and brown eyes in bibs and Osh Kosh B'Gosh overalls and skirts and pig tails and pacifiers running around the area with beleaguered adults in tow, half-heartedly and exhaustedly following them around. Rachel can guess these are presumably their parents, as she recalls having done this when Suzie was little. Presently, Suzie stops, squeals in delight, tugs at her and says, "There it is!" at some particular object she has spotted in the distance. Rachel finds herself being dragged amongst these little creatures milling around the area like there is some hobbit toy festival of some sort. Before she knows it, she is standing on a large electronic foot-operated keyboard piano with Suzie and Kate beside her before she can even say, "What am I doing here?" The keyboard is surrounded by other musical instruments such as shiny guitars of every shape and size, glistening drum sets, gleaming saxophones and trumpets, glossy violins and so on, all of which are, inexplicably placed located near the children's section as well. A few young customers are trying out the guitars, one is sitting by the drum set, fingering the cymbals, while another, a bespectacled boy, is staring at one of the shiny new violins displayed on a cabinet beyond his reach as clerks watch the customers with eagle eyes.

But then, Suzie moves her feet over the large keyboards, sneakered feet making each key light up in fluorescent white. She looks up at Rachel and grins, her eyes lit up with delight. She looks positively thrilled. As she starts coaxing a tune out of the giant piano, Rachel recognizes the song.

Rachel feels slightly embarrassed but she knows this song. It is "Everyday" from part two of Disney's "High School Musical". Lord knows Suzie has made her watch all the "High School Musical" movies many, many times. In fact, she remembers impromptu musical productions of the songs from the movies in their living room or in the Lopezes' living room. When Suzie found out Kate was as equally and inexplicably enamored with the musical, they would spend hours in front of the laptop or the television watching the series over and over again. Suzie still has not shown any indication of outgrowing cheesy, chipper, overly and unbearably optimistic Disney musicals. Rachel supposes this is partly her fault, as she did insist to Santana,when the girl was younger, that she only be allowed to watch the Disney and Nickelodeon Channel as these channels are much more child-friendly than most. Santana had rolled her eyes at her then ("You can't protect her from the world forever, baby," Santana, who had wanted a more controlled, but freer viewing experience for their daughter, had pointed out. "Yes, but I can try," Rachel had told her then.) but had eventually relented. They may disagree on how to raise Suzie, but Rachel knows Santana has grudging respect for Rachel's parenting abilities. These days, however, Suzie is now allowed to watch anime as well.

Then Suzie slowly and unself-consciously sings, in her girlish, out of tune voice, the first stanza that Troy Bolton sings in the movie.

"_Once in a lifetime_

_Means there's no second chance_

_So I believe that you and me _

_Should grab it while we can…"_

Suzie then stops, looks at Kate with this instantly recognizable adoring look on her face that's only for Kate. The look she gives Kate makes Rachel smile.

Suzie now waits for Kate to sing the next line. Kate grins and winks at her and gamely sings the next line with perfect pitch and a beautiful sweetness in her voice.

"_Make it last forever _

_And never give it back._

_It's our turn now and I'm loving where we're at…"_

Then they both stop and wait for Rachel to sing the next part. Rachel knits her eyebrows, feels a bit embarrassed as a few of the customers have stopped and looked at them, but not with the look that McKinley's high school kids usually gave Rachel and the other Glee kids whenever they burst into song when she was in high school, but more out of just genuine curiosity, as if a grown woman and two twelve year old girls jumping onto a large piano and singing is an everyday occurrence. She sighs now and moves through the keyboards, her feet locating the keys for the next part of the song.

"_Because this moment's really all we have…"_

The two girls look at Rachel with an approving look and Kate turns to Suzie and says, "You have the coolest moms ever, Suzie," which makes Rachel smile at the girl.

Suzie grins at Kate, then turns to her mother and says, "Let's do the chorus now, Mee."

Rachel nods and they move around the keys of the giant piano. Together, they sing the chorus of the song, the girls grinning whenever a key they have jumped on lights up. Rachel finds herself impressed that Suzie still knows her music lessons.

"_Every day of our lives,_

_Want to find you there, want to hold on tight,_

_Gonna run, while we're young and keep the faith_

_Every day, from right now _

_Gonna use our voices and scream out loud_

_Take my hand,_

_Together we will celebrate_

_Oh, everyday…"_

As the onlookers give a small appreciative nod to the trio, this encourages the girls to continue with the next part of the song. Rachel, despite herself, is finding this singularly fun and follows along, skipping along the keys, heart beginning to race as they continue to jump around the keys,

Suzie sings, "_They say that you should follow…"_

Rachel grins and replies with, "_And chase down what you dream…_"

Suzie sings, "_But if you get lost and lose yourself_…"

Kate counters by saying, "_What does it really mean?_"

Suzie and Kate sing, "_No matter where we're going…_"

Rachel says, "_Ooh, yeah. It starts from where we are…_"

Then Suzie and Kate sing the next part of the song together, as they grab each other's hands, smiling at each other with the widest smiles Rachel has ever seen on them.

"_There's more to life when we listen to our hearts,_

_And because of you, I've got the strength to start,_

_Yeah, yeah, yeah!"_

As Rachel and two girls come together for the chorus, one of the young male customers who is sitting by the drum set, starts to give their music a beat, while another tries his hand at one of the smaller pianos and follows the rhythm they are doing on the large keyboard. Suzie and Kate raise their arms in the air, shake their heads from side to side, Kate's brown hair and Suzie's blonde one flying around in the air, pure, unadulterated joy on their young, cherubic faces as they sing the chorus.

"_Every day of our lives,_

_Wanna find you there, wanna hold on tight_

_Gonna run, while we're young_

_And keep the faith…."_

Before they know it, a kid is playing one of the acoustic guitars and it has turned into an impromptu jam session, urging Rachel, Suzie and Kate on. Suzie grins at Rachel as they continue jumping up and down on the keys, singing the chorus together, and surprisingly, a few of the kids, apparently also familiar with the song, sing along with them,

"_Every day, from right now,_

_Gonna use our voices and scream out loud_

_Take my hand, _

_Together we_

_Will celebrate,_

_Oh, everyday…"_

They finish the song, singing and hopping up and down on the keyboard and when they do, Rachel, Suzie and Kate are panting and out of breath, but they receive a hearty and enthusiastic applause from the small crowd of adult shoppers and their kids, who have gathered around to watch them. Rachel blushes as she leans over and rests her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. She feels so out of shape these days, although since she is blessed with a fast metabolism, her body has thankfully pretty much stayed the same since high school. She catches Suzie out of the corner of her eye, grinning and doing a good-natured bow and a curtsy and Rachel raises one hand up in acknowledgement, waves away the applause with a smile.

"Keep the faith, Mee," Suzie says, moving to hug her mother as she gives her a wink and a squeeze.

Rachel grins back. As they step off the keyboard, they find Kurt and Santana, both sharing horrified expressions that barely mask the amused ones underneath.

"High School _Musical_," Santana says, shuddering as Rachel and the girls approach them. "Ugh. How has my life turned into some twisted Disney musical shit?" she mutters to Rachel as Suzie and Kate move off to bother Kurt.

Rachel laughs and affectionately hits her on the arm. "Aaaw, it was fun. You should try it some time."

Santana grins back, puts an arm around Rachel, draws her close, gives her a squeeze and steals a kiss on her cheek, as they follow their daughter, Kate and Kurt to some other section of the department store.

"You look so hot right now," Santana murmurs into Rachel's ear.

Rachel grins. "As do you," she gamely replies.

In a few hours they leave the department store laden with shopping items that both women and Suzie have argued heartily over relevance, appropriateness, color, length, texture, thread count, price and so forth, much to everyone's, especially Kurt's annoyance, who is usually left either staring up at the ceiling or staring down at his shoes or tapping his shoes as the women decide on what to buy, whilst Kate watches all of them, an amused, awed expression on her face.

By the end of their shopping excursion, Rachel feels visibly better.

* * *

She and Santana do not have a television in the bedroom and only have the one television in the living room that is strictly regulated because of Suzie. They do not really watch the news. Rachel already finds the news too depressing anyway and Santana only ever watches the news when necessary, as she feels American media coverage of anything terribly shallow and biased. They also have no patience for and cannot be bothered really, with social media as well since they find it a waste of time.

Rachel throws herself into her new student-less, lesson-free, class-free life with as much fervor as she can muster, throwing herself into Suzie's preparations for her "Little Prince" musical, catching up on reading, watching movies, favorite television shows that she has DVRed and never caught up with, doing the aforementioned mundane activities at home that include some spring cleaning, housework, meals, shopping, arguing with Santana over the benefits of soya milk versus regular milk, tofu versus meat, coffee versus tea, ad infinitum. However, Rachel finds that once her soon-to-be wife and her daughter are out of the house, there is an emptiness, a silence, a solitude that she is not sure she can bear, an uncertainty, an anxiety she is not sure she can weather. During these times, Santana, ever aware of Rachel's many quirks, calls every now and then to check on Rachel. Though this helps Rachel to some extent, there is still some anxiety, some heaviness, some sadness in the pit of her stomach, whenever she thinks of what happened to her at Taft High.

But one day, all of that changes…

* * *

It is Kurt who calls her first, to tell her about it, one early morning, so unexpectedly (Kurt already knows by now _not_ to call early in the morning or risk the wrath of Rachel's permanent roommate), the noise of Rachel's ring tone (Barbara Streisand singing "All I Ask of You") causing an irritated muffled groan of protest from Santana and an equally annoyed, "Who the hell is that?"

Rachel groans a "Dunno" and sleepily mumbles "Hello?" into the phone as she squints against the suddenly too bright early morning sunlight streaming from their bedroom window. Santana has shifted, moves closer, throws her right arm over Rachel's waist, pulling her closer, burying her face in the crook of Rachel's neck. Rachel shifts to let Santana's head rest on her right arm and she kisses Santana's wild profusion of thick, dark hair now tickling her cheek, chin and neck. Santana groans an appreciative response as she throws a leg over Rachel's legs, one wandering hand finding itself on the silky, thin material of the fabric Rachel is currently wearing and the hand suddenly seems to have come to life, perhaps realizing Rachel is wearing the lingerie bought at Macy's just a few days ago.

When the voice at the other end of the line chirps a bright good morning, it takes Rachel a few seconds to realize who it is and she says, "Hey, Kurt, good morning."

Suddenly Santana's hand stops, her eyes fly open and she says, annoyed, "Kurt? Do you know what time it is?"

"Honey," Rachel says, patiently, moving the phone away and gently pushing Santana away with her free arm, "Go back to sleep."

Santana snorts and sulkily moves her head away, so Rachel moves toward Santana and plants a kiss on the bare shoulder not covered by Santana's threadbare tank top.

"Sorry," Rachel mumbles into the phone as she flops back onto her side of the bed, stretching and yawning and blinking the sleepiness away. Rachel notes with a smile that Santana has, again, moved closer to Rachel. Rachel rests her hand on Santana's head. Santana responds by moving even closer, her hand sliding to Rachel's waist.

"What's up?" Rachel asks into the phone now.

"Sorry to wake you guys up," Kurt says apologetically and at the same time, excitedly, "But have you seen the news lately?"

"No," Rachel says, in between yawns.

Rachel can swear Kurt actually tuts her and asks impatiently, "Well, have you at least been online? Read the papers lately?"

"Uh-uh," Rachel answers, shaking her head.

"What? You're kidding me right? I - "

"Kurt, it's - " Rachel glances at the bedside clock and she half-expects it to say five thirty or six am at least, but it is blinking a seemingly accusatory seven thirty instead, so she says, " - Early…and I hate to be rude, but…why are you calling?"

Slowly, Santana moves to kiss her, lips nuzzling behind Rachel's ear, hot breath against her skin. Rachel smiles, feels tingles, feels her heart skip a beat as Santana's lips move down towards her neck, then on to her shoulders, then lifts the blanket, head disappearing beneath the blanket so she can kiss Rachel all the way down to her abdomen, breath warm, lips soft and moist against Rachel's skin, hands gentle as they brush, caress, knead Rachel's skin beneath the lingerie Santana had bought her and presented to her with a smirk and a mischievous glint in her eye. Rachel tries to concentrate on what Kurt is saying about the news, but is too distracted by the feel and the weight of Santana's body and the warmth of her skin against hers, and distracted by what Santana's lips and tongue are currently doing to the skin on her stomach, then the inner part of her thighs, to be able to concentrate. In fact, her breath catches when she feels Santana's lips slowly slide closer to her underwear, feels her kiss her beneath the thin fabric of her underwear, fingers tugging at the waist band, so much so that Rachel covers the mouthpiece of the phone, quickly lifts the blanket up and half-heartedly scolds Santana, whispering, "Honey, no, I'm on the phone here."

Santana looks up, meets Rachel's eyes, raises an eyebrow and only smirks at Rachel before she slides up and over, so that she is face to face with Rachel, her body molding itself to hers. Santana holds Rachel with her gaze long enough for Rachel to blush, even as Kurt continues to speak on the phone and Santana leans over, brushes her lips lightly on Rachel's lips, then moving to Rachel's ear, she whispers, "Hang up."

Rachel looks unsure, not wanting to hang up on Kurt. "Honey…"

"Hang _up_," Santana says now, a little more firmly. Her tone is unmistakable.

Finally, Rachel gives up, smiles and says, into the phone, "Kurt, I've…got to go. I'll call you later, okay?"

Rachel hears a protesting "But…" from Kurt but she turns off the phone and drops it on the bedside table as Santana moves up and over her.

"Honey, if I lose my friends, I'm blaming your libido," Rachel teasingly tells her now, even as one hand comes up to brush Santana's cheek, and the other holds Santana by the waist.

"Sorry," Santana says as she nuzzles the dip on Rachel's throat before tracing slow, lazy circles from her neck all the way up to the tip of Rachel's ear. "But it's really a little too early for a Kurt Hummel gabfest."

Rachel tries to roll her eyes because she already knows Santana isn't really sorry, but she feels shivers instead, as Santana kisses her. Her right hand comes up to hold Santana by the neck, thumb tracing Santana's jaw and cheek.

"Yeah, sure, I'll just have to tell Kurt, 'Kurt, I'm sorry, we can't be friends anymore, because you keep calling at the most inappropriate times. Which, incidentally, happens to be _all_ the time'…" Rachel manages to say now, as her body warms to Santana's touch. She lifts her head and catches Santana's lips in a long kiss.

"Hmmm," Santana hums now, before pulling away from Rachel's lips and tilting her head at Rachel, says, approvingly, "That's not a half bad idea!"

Rachel just shakes her head at Santana. "You're incorrigible, you know that?"

Santana grins. "Thanks, babe! You say the nicest things." When Rachel half-teasingly frowns at her, Santana gives in and mumbles, in between kissing Rachel, "Okay, okay, I'll totally make it up to him. I'll buy him tickets to whatever hit musical is taking Broadway by storm, maybe a gift certificate to a spa of his choice, and a colonoscopy or something?"

"A colonoscopy?" Rachel asks, puzzled, shaking her head and grinning. As Santana grins back, leans over and kisses her, Rachel adds, like an afterthought, "And maybe dinner and drinks..."

Santana groans in protest. Then she stops, gazes at Rachel for a long moment first, and smiles a tender smile that Rachel has come to recognize as a smile she only ever gives to Rachel and only to Rachel. Santana then slowly leans over and plants a light, gentle kiss on Rachel's lips. She then lifts her head, looks into Rachel's eyes and whispers, "I love you."

Rachel smiles into Santana's kiss as her arms come around to pull Santana closer. "I love you, too," she says. "Good morning."

Santana mumbles the greeting back, continuing to kiss her, even as Santana's hand moves to lift the hem of Rachel's lingerie, hand sliding up on Rachel's thigh, hip, waist, hand stopping as it feels the curve of Rachel's breast, thumb dusting the pink crest of Rachel's breast, before Santana leans over and encloses it with her mouth. Rachel gasps, feels it, the electrifying jolt Santana's touch and lips do to her and she cannot help but arch her back, grabs Santana and kisses her, moaning into the kiss, as Santana gathers her in her arms and Rachel's own hands come up to pull Santana closer, hands going underneath Santana's tank top, feeling the warmth of the skin beneath, hands sliding up the skin of her smooth back.

Santana moves to lift the thin material off of Rachel's body, and Rachel lifts herself to allow her to do so, even as she catches hold of the hem of Santana's tank top and moves to lift it off her body as well. Santana smiles at her now as they start to move into each other, chests pressed together, Santana pressing and kissing and caressing her, hand going back to Rachel's underwear to tug and pull it down her thighs.

But then, the phone rings again. Santana mumbles to ignore it, tips of her fingers brushing through the fabric of Rachel's underwear. Rachel throws her head back on the pillow, a soft moan coming out of her lips and Santana responds by running her lips and tongue on Rachel's neck, then meeting Rachel's lips in a long, slow, unhurried kiss, as if they have all the time in the world. But the phone keeps on ringing, so Santana grabs it with her free hand and punches the reject button. There is a silence as Santana moves back and resumes kissing and caressing Rachel. But then, the phone rings again, more insistently this time. They let it ring a few times, then it stops, but then it rings again.

"I think you need to answer that," Rachel finally says on the nth ring, as she pulls away and moves to get Santana's phone, as Santana makes an annoyed, frustrated groan.

Rachel looks at the caller ID, hits the answer button and gives the phone to Santana even as Santana shakes her head, saying, "No, no, no."

Rachel falls back on her side of the bed, staring up at the ceiling, as she pulls the blanket up to cover her and Santana. She looks at Santana and listens to her. Santana just looks back at Rachel, throws a leg over Rachel's thighs whilst resting herself on her left elbow, by Rachel's shoulder, the other hand cradling the mobile phone by her right ear. Santana's expression goes from annoyed to puzzled and resigned. Rachel tucks Santana's hair behind her ear, traces her jaw with her finger, and Santana smiles at her.

"Hello?...Hey…What's up?" Santana says now, pausing, listening to the person on the other line, before she sighs and offers the phone to Rachel, "It's for you."

"What?" Rachel asks. "Who is it?"

Santana rolls her eyes. "Sam."

"Sam?" Rachel asks, puzzled. "Hey, Sam," she says, absent-mindedly smiling as she says it, as if Sam were actually there.

"Dude!" Sam says in the other line and Rachel grimaces at the term of endearment. "I heard what happened! From Kurt. You okay? That schoolboard and those parents ... They're like…Darth Vader and Sauron and Voldermort all rolled into one! I might be exaggerating, but maybe I'm not! But those kids of yours were awesome! They were like Jedi Knights and hobbits and elves and those ghost kings at the end of Return of the King and you were Eowyn!"

Rachel makes a face and shoves the phone back to Santana. "I think you made a mistake. He's babbling on about Darth Vader and Sauron and Voldermort and Jedi Knights and hobbits… and apparently I'm Eowyn…And what is Sam doing talking to Kurt?"

"What?" Santana gives her a puzzled look. "Hey, Sam, it's Santana." She gives the phone back to Rachel. "No, he wants to talk to you."

As soon as Rachel takes the phone back, Rachel's phone rings and Rachel reaches to see who it is and hands the phone to Santana. The caller ID indicates it is Quinn.

"So are you okay? How're you holding up? Anything I can do to help?" Sam asks as if the phone has not been passed back and forth between the two women. "I'm here to help…? I know I'm like Santana's lesbro and trusty sidekick, Tonto, or whatever, but I'm your friend, too, and I got your back like I got Santana's back. You want me to beat someone up for you?"

Rachel rolls her eyes. "You really _are_ Santana's friend," she remarks, although she smiles as she says this. "And no, thanks, but I appreciate the offer though."

"Aaaw, and I was hoping I could whip out the ol' light saber and brandish it around like a true Jedi Knight!" Sam says now, dejectedly. "Or maybe try out the ol' Vulcan death grip…"

Rachel knits her eyebrows. "What exactly is a Vulcan death grip? And, hold up, you have a _light_ saber? What on earth is a grown man like you doing with a light saber?"

"Same reason he can't get laid," Santana explains in a quick whisper and Rachel smiles. "Although at this point, we're not getting any either," Santana comments, and she leans over, her mouth just inches from the phone on Rachel's hand and says, "So get off the phone, dork!"

Rachel laughs and pushes Santana back gently.

"Nothing wrong with having a light saber, jerk!" Sam laughingly says now, presumably to Santana as Rachel laughs.

Santana remembers the phone on her own hand and goes back to it.

"Hey, Quinn," Santana says. She glances at Rachel. "Sorry. She's kind of on the phone right now. She's fine…What? No, we haven't…Wait, hold on…Mom's calling…I'll get back to you…" She presses a button and then says, "Hi, _mami_. _Buenos dias_. Rachel? Yes, she's here….She's fine…She's on the phone though. No, we haven't seen the news…Yes…"

By this time, Sam, Quinn, Kurt, Mrs. Lopez and Dr. Lopez have all called, asking how Rachel is, if Rachel is fine, expressing relief that she is okay, and expressing concern and worry about what has happened. Apparently Kurt had called Sam, who called Quinn and both have now expressed concern for Rachel's well-being. Santana has called her own parents, who have thus expressed their own concern for Rachel.

At the end of the last call, Rachel and Santana try to resume what they were doing earlier but Rachel is now distracted, curious about the calls they have received in the morning. This elicits a frustrated groan from Santana but she finally relents and they decide to get up, watch the news on TV and go online.

"But you are _so_ making this up to me later!" Santana says in a huff, to Rachel's laughter as she nods and mumbles, "Yeah, yeah, yeah…"

When they get to the living room, laptop under Rachel's arm, Suzie is already sprawled on the sofa, long legs cross-legged, bowl of cereal with soy milk on her lap as she watches the news. A box of Kellogg's and soy milk are on the living room table.

"Morning!" she says to her mothers as each one enters.

"Hey, kiddo," Santana says, flopping down on the couch next to her, hand automatically coming up to give Suzie's shoulder a squeeze, as Suzie hands her an empty bowl and pours cereal on it. "Sorry, we're out of regular milk, mom. Soy milk, okay?"

Santana frowns but nods and waits as Suzie pours some milk on her cereal.

"Cereal, Mee?" Suzie asks Rachel, who has taken a seat beside Santana, setting the laptop she is holding on her lap as she does so.

Suzie offers Rachel the cereal box and a bowl. When Rachel shakes her head as she turns on the laptop, Suzie says, "There's some coffee in the kitchen, Mee. Do you want some? How about you mom?"

When the two women nod, Suzie gets up and heads to the kitchen, door swinging behind her. She comes back later with two cups of steaming brewed coffee and a small jar of brown sugar in the shape of Batman tucked under one arm. Sam had given the Batman sugar jar to Suzie for her birthday once. The women thank Suzie as she sets the cups of coffee on the table. Santana puts two teaspoons of sugar and milk in Rachel's cup before putting three teaspoons of sugar in her own. She hesitates when she is about to pour some soy milk on her coffee but then decides to put some, whilst muttering, "I am _so_ buying _real_ milk later."

As Rachel takes a sip of coffee, Suzie stops and stares at Santana, and asks, "Real milk, mom? Like breast milk or something?"

Rachel almost chokes on her coffee as Santana rolls her eyes at Suzie and says, "No. Eeeww…"

Both of the women are glued to the screen, as the commercials stop, the news comes on and the newscaster says, "If you've just tuned in, the top news of the hour is…choir students protest at a local high school in Brooklyn."

As he says this, Rachel takes another sip of her coffee, watching the video clip of Baz and the others in purple shirts flash on the screen, with Baz holding a placard that says, "If you don't want gay teachers, blame straight parents, they're the ones who keep having gay babies," that almost makes Rachel choke again and spit out her coffee and makes Santana laugh.

"Got to love those kids!" Santana says now.

Rachel smiles now as she sets the coffee down on the table and busily searches for the website. When the website pops up, Rachel stares at the website. It is simple, unostentatious. It is all done in purple, and she is impressed by the minimal grammatical mistakes, by how nice the graphics are. She realizes that her spending too much time with Sam, who is an IT expert, has made her recognize well-designed websites when she sees them. She particularly likes the choice banner quotes scrolling from right to left on top part of the site, quotes from poets such as Walt Whitman, Shakespeare, T.S. Eliot, Robert Frost, Langston Hughes, Maya Angelou moving from end of the site to the next in beautiful, scrawling, almost Elvish script. She likes that the website opens with an instrumental version of "The Sound of Silence".

Rachel realizes now that though Baz and the Glee Club Beatz have continued to go to classes, to fulfill a promise she made them make with her just before she left, she can see that they have found other ways to keep the protest alive. Baz and the others have taken their protest online, have set up a "Save the Teachers, Save the Arts" campaign website, and she can already guess that it was probably designed by McG (who has always been geekier than most of them), written by Kareem (who is probably the best at writing in their group), with the regular updates done by most of the members. The Glee Club Beatz have posted videos of their singing in choir competitions, have posted Dubs' video clips of the club practicing, have posted their own little blog posts on what they think of the arts and music and how their teacher, Rachel, changed their lives. To illustrate their point, they have posted excerpts from the papers they made for Rachel's class, when Rachel had asked them to interpret Simon and Garfunkel's "The Sound of Silence". She had forgotten about this particular lesson, but enjoys being reminded how Dubs interpreted the song as a cry to be acknowledged, McG seeing it as humanity's disconnect with modern life, Kareem believing it is a song that talks about racism, Kenyatta thinking it's about society's double standards on morality and sexuality, Anferny considering it as a song about alienation. Then she comes across excerpts from Baz's essay, how he compared it to freedom, by citing a Nina Simone song, and she remembers how she felt reading Baz's piece that day so long ago. The website also features recommended songs and books, and she is particularly impressed the group mentions the books they discussed in class. She sees discussions and links to "Catcher on the Rye", "Hunger Games", "Golden Compass" and the now infamous "The Color Purple". It is so rebellious and defiant she cannot help but feel pride for the kids.

But the main focus of the website seems to be her Glee kids demanding an explanation for, protesting, condemning Rachel Berry's dismissal and the implicit homophobia of a few individuals in very high places, as well as the complicity with which a few individuals have made such a dismissal in the first place possible and demanding justice for the said dismissal.

They have linked their website to facebook, twitter, tumblr and blog sites and have encouraged other Taft students to post their thoughts not just on music and the arts, but what they think about the impending reforms on Taft. Pictures are posted, videos put up, comments, likes, favorites, reblogs appear, as the statistics for the site steadily climb.

She looks at the visitors' counter and sees that it has had almost a million views.

This protest, more quiet, more peaceful, more techno-savvy and clever than anything, had slowly gained not only popularity but notoriety as news of the protest reach other Taft kids.

A struggling reporter comes across the website, reads the blog posts, watches the videos, looks at the links, recognizes a human interest angle and in a few days, the reporter is at Taft High interviewing the Beatz.

A small article is produced from the interview, published on the back page of the local newspaper, seemingly to be forgotten, but it is accompanied by a picture of the Beatz and Rachel at competitions. A TV broadcast newscaster picks up the very same newspaper, reads the article, senses a scoop in the making, somewhere in the article and a few days later, is at Taft High interviewing the very same Glee kids.

When the newscaster finds out this all starts from one simple stand up silent protest in a gym (that one of the kids had filmed in his mobile phone camera and uploaded on youtube and linked into the Glee Beatz' website), about a teacher being let go not just because of Arts Funding and reforms being cut but also because she was suspected of being gay, he suddenly finds his angle. He encourages the Brooklyn Beatz kids to talk more, in front of the camera, one by one talking about their dismay and sadness, that Rachel Berry, their favorite teacher and Glee Club adviser, is let go. The kids sing songs, for the camera, and the six o'clock news have newscasters talking about the little protest over at Taft High from a group of kids who just happened to love their teacher and want her back.

Rachel does not know what to think, but she feels touched by this gesture. Santana's hand comes up and rubs Rachel's back.

"You okay?" Santana asks now, concern on her face, perhaps worried Rachel would have another panic attack. Rachel shakes her head and Santana sighs in relief.

"Don't forget to breathe," Santana says, smiling.

Rachel nods. Santana leans over and sees the website Rachel's kids have designed for her and put an arm around Rachel and plant a kiss on the side of Rachel's forehead. "Your kids are awesome," Santana whispers as she looks over the website.

The newscaster now starts with how they got wind of the story, through a small news article in a newspaper, whose writer found the Taft's Glee Club website called "Save the Teachers, Save the Arts". As the newscaster drones on and on, they flash video clips of the Glee Club's rehearsals, competition videos, quoting from the blog posts, showing pictures of Rachel and the kids. Then the newscaster talks about how the website has also become a site where the kids also talk about and protest the school districts' planned unfair policy reforms that will be implemented in the next school year.

He then continues and reports on the American education system, as experts, academics, bloggers, random students, teachers, a school supervisor, a principal, are interviewed and their opinions aired on television.

* * *

Presently, the doorbell rings and Santana gets up to get it. When Rachel hears Santana utter an irritated "Ugh, it's you!" Rachel guesses it is Kurt.

"Hi!" Kurt says cheerily as Santana enters the living room, Kurt following close behind.

"I brought bagels!" Kurt says now, pointedly ignoring Santana's annoyed looks at him, as he brandishes a box of bagels like a peace offering. He sets it on the table.

"Hi, Uncle Kurt!" Suzie says, waving at as she leans over, opens the box and gets a bagel that she starts nibbling on.

Santana rolls her eyes as she takes the seat between Suzie and Rachel. Kurt is sitting on the seat opposite the couch.

"If I'd known marrying you meant being permanently attached to your friends as well, Rach, I'd have thought twice before proposing to you," Santana says now, half-teasingly. "I mean, geez, we don't even give a head's up or a call or anything now, we just _come_ here now, whether people are busy or not," Santana says, half-sarcastically and pointedly, as she looks at Kurt, who ignores her as he takes a bite out of a bagel.

Rachel rolls her eyes at Santana in turn, then says, "Well, marrying you means I'll be permanently attached to a light-saber wielding man-child with an unhealthy obsession with Star Wars, Lord of the Rings and Star Trek, and passes off wearing a jockstrap over his face as acceptable, normal behavior and a woman who is incapable of saying nice things to _anyone_."

Santana laughs as her left hand goes to Rachel's waist and squeezes her closer.

"Want some coffee?" Santana asks Kurt now, in a conciliatory tone, as she picks out a bagel from the box and takes a bite out of it.

"Why, yes, thank you, Santana, I'd love some," Kurt says now, smiling at Santana, fully expecting her to get up and get him some.

"There's some in the kitchen," Santana says now, smirking.

Kurt's face falls as Santana grins.

Rachel shakes her head and says, "I'll go get some for you."

Kurt says, "No, it's fine, I'll get some myself."

Santana quips, "Yeah, don't worry, it's fine, he knows his way around the house. He practically _lives_ here anyway."

"Be nice," Kurt says, before he gets up to get a cup of coffee from the kitchen, "Or next time you need a babysitter I'll suddenly conveniently be…indisposed. Let's see how that's going to work for you on your date night!"

Santana rolls her eyes. "Fine, fine, sorry."

"Girls, girls," Rachel says now, "It's a little too early for you girls to be bickering, isn't it? Honestly."

"Sorry," the two apologize.

When Kurt comes back, the living room falls into quiet as they watch the news on television, then the news ends and Suzie grabs the remote and tunes in to Disney channel.

The adults get up and head to the kitchen, coffee, empty bowls, box of cereal, milk and jar of sugar in hand.

"What are you going to do?" Kurt asks in between sips of coffee after he hears the abridged version of what happened at Taft High and the stand the Brooklyn Beatz did for Rachel. "Must say though, your kids are like, ten shades of awesome. Wish somebody'd did that for me when we were in high school."

"Santana and Sam did that for you in high school," Rachel reminds Kurt.

Kurt rolls his eyes. "Santana did that to get Britt back _and_ win prom queen. But yeah, Sam did do that for me. But it's still nowhere near as epic as what your kids did."

"Well, my wife is ten shades of awesome, too, so," Santana says now, matter-of-factly, smiling at Rachel as she comes up and plants a kiss on Rachel's cheek. "Of course she deserves _epic_."

Rachel's heart leaps from her chest when Santana hears her say the word "wife". She thinks she can get used to being referred to as Santana's wife.

Kurt looks at them, horrified expression on his face as Rachel turns to kiss Santana back. "Oh, god, if you guys are going to make out in front of me, I swear to god, I'll…."

Santana looks at him, a dark look on her face, and asks, "You'll what?"

"I'll…I'll…I'll…" Kurt says, suddenly at a loss for words as the two women wait for him to speak. Then he sighs and says, voice trailing off, "I'll…piss and moan like an impotent jerk and watch you guys make out and lament my own little, pathetic, non-existent love life."

Santana and Rachel both grin widely as Kurt ends by saying, "God, I really hate you guys right now. How come I don't get the kind of happy ending you're getting?"

"Maybe because you date jerks?" Santana offers.

"Aaaw, Kurt, you'll gets yours, too, soon," Rachel says, sympathetically.

"Hey," Santana suddenly says, looking at Kurt from head to foot. "Something's wrong. Something's off somehow."

"What?" Kurt asks, nervous.

"You look…weird…," Santana comments, "Almost…normal somehow."

Rachel looks at Kurt, too and realizes Santana is right. She hadn't noticed it before, but Kurt is wearing plain, faded jeans, sneakers, a tee and a dark blue hooded sweatshirt. The beginnings of a day old stubble are also on his chin. Rachel braces herself for whatever insult Santana has for Kurt. She has tried to wean Santana off of this crippling habit of teasing Kurt but Santana cannot seem to stop herself but for some strange reason, lately, she senses that in some twisted way, it is Santana's way of showing whatever affection she may have for Rachel's best friend.

Santana is quiet as she stares at Kurt and Kurt's face reddens as the stare lengthens. Presently, Santana finally says, "You look nice. I like this look. Why can't you dress normal like this every day?"

Rachel sighs in relief and she almost senses Kurt doing it as well. Santana smiles at Kurt as she sips her coffee.

"This is a joke right?" Kurt asks.

"Take it or leave it, Kurt, 'cause that's all you're going to get today," Santana says, smirking.

Kurt rolls his eyes and looks at Rachel now. "How're you holding up? You okay?"

Rachel nods. "Yes, thanks."

"You know this is going to go crazy, right?" Kurt says, worry in his voice.

Rachel shrugs. "It's going to blow over. You'll see. I wouldn't be particularly worried about it."

* * *

Rachel thinks it will eventually blow over. That her kids will eventually grow frustrated, be disappointed by the system, and like Principal Abrams has mentioned, thinks they will eventually give up and move on. But she has underestimated her kids. Underestimated their capacity to fully commit to something they believe in. After all, they did commit to her Glee Club, story boarding and rehearsals and learning reading sheet music and all.

But the protest does not end.

It continues.

It goes on. In ways that Rachel did not expect.

In fact, what happens is that, the protest becomes like a slow burning forest fire that slowly eats away everything in its path, starting from the outer ridges and spreads all throughout the school.

In fact, the fire is kept alive so much so that that same spring, a new protest ensues, this time initiated by teachers who, after final exams, walk out of their classrooms and rally, brandishing placards protesting the proposed school and policy reforms, the sacking of over half of the teachers of Taft High, the discrimination against teachers like Rachel Berry, the low pay, the unfair working conditions that include overcrowded classrooms, inadequate facilities and the occupational hazards that come with working in Brooklyn.

In a few days, students and teachers from other schools in the other school districts, gather around their own schools, staging their own protests, rallying in front of their own schools to protest the very same unfair school reforms, policies and conditions.

It sets off a string of events, a domino effect of sorts, in which the local story of the Taft High Brooklyn Beatz, the teachers and the protests from the other schools from the other school districts gets picked up not only by local news but by national news as well, and before long, morning shows, talk shows, late night talk shows, sketch shows, the blogosphere and social media sites are discussing the little protest that started at Taft High, and set off a lively debate on the issue of school reforms, policy reforms, American education reforms, the importance of arts education and the purported gay agenda in schools and homophobia and discrimination in schools. It sets off a heated, angry debate on the state of American education and arts funding in the nation.

They call the Brooklyn Beatz the little glee club that could, the little club that set off the debate that has the whole nation talking.

It is, to say the least, a publicity nightmare for the New York State Board of Education, its officials and representatives.

The protests have become so controversial, so talked about, that the Brooklyn school district, decides to suspend, for the time being, the planned school reforms, policy reforms and the impending complete "transformational change" that would have half, if not most, of the teachers of the district being given the pink slip. Whilst the US economy has never been the way it was during the Clinton administration years and before it, and Arts funding has never been what it was before, news of the protests at Brooklyn reaching the ears of a few people in Congress interested on getting re-elected on a "Bring-back-the-Arts" and "Save-the-children-left-behind" platform have made it possible for dialogue on Arts funding to be discussed in the first place. It is more than Rachel, and perhaps her kids and the teachers of Taft High, could ask or even hope for, and she wants to look Tipper Potts up, just to thank her, to let her know she completely understands now.

And then of course, what happens is news reporters delve into the little protest in the first place and find out that it is about the kids simply wanting their Glee Club adviser back.

So, the spotlight turns on Rachel Berry anew.

* * *

It is not long before the news crews now want exclusive interviews with Rachel Berry, the woman behind the spunky Brooklyn Beatz of Brooklyn's Taft High. Gay groups latch on to the news story as well, calling it discrimination, calling her dismissal unfair and unconstitutional.

Had she been younger, say high school age, or even college age, or those years after NYADA when she was trying to break into the business, she would have jumped into any opportunity to be in the spotlight, especially since she now has gay groups wanting to express their support as well, rallying to her and the Beatz's cause. After all, even bad publicity is still publicity. But that was years ago. And she truthfully cannot be bothered with this. Frankly does not want to be involved this way. Wants it to be all about the kids, and their right to keep their Arts funding, keep their good teachers in school. Plus she values her privacy so much, too much, to want random strangers coming to their apartment, interviewing her, interviewing her family, their daughter most of all, poking around their little private space and exposing everything for all the world to see.

McPherson agrees, although he says granting an interview in some neutral place, like a studio, would not be too bad, he comments one, during a talk they had on the phone. "I mean, you care for these kids, don't you? Plus, it's an opportunity for you to air your side, maybe even air your thoughts about you think about Arts funding in the state. I don't know. It's your call. I'm just saying," he comments. Rachel is surprised by what McPherson says, although she half-suspects the agent also wants her out there as well, if only for a little publicity. She is even more surprised when Santana agrees with him. "Baby, you know how these news hounds are. They'll never stop anyway 'til you give in. Might as well grant them an interview, shut them up. Plus, like he said, it's a great opportunity to air your side."

Rachel does not like her face being flashed all over the news, newscasters calling her "Rachel Berry, former Broadway Star turned Brooklyn high school teacher" or "Rachel Berry , gay Broadway star" in some imagined derisive way, although she knows she does not get it as badly as TV or movie stars do. She does not want to be some kind of spokesperson for public education Arts funding or even for gay rights campaigns, does not really want to be defined by her sexuality, does not want to be known as that gay Broadway star who was fired for being a good teacher. She tells as much to Santana, and Santana listens, and says, simply, "Baby, then don't. You don't need to do anything you don't want to. It's still your life. Nobody should force you to do what you don't want to do."

She finally relents though and allows herself to be interviewed for just such one news segment, in a coffee shop and if she thinks it is the last, she realizes that it isn't, as other reporters from other stations request for interviews.

She feels overwhelmed by it, and a bit anxious and had Santana not been there, she would have had yet another panic attack in a series of panic attacks about how one decision she has made almost a couple of years ago to teach in Brooklyn (well, the decision was made at NYADA and had she not been sidetracked would have started earlier) would have this much impact and much publicity. She is stunned at the kind of effect her love for music and singing and choirs and even literature would have on her kids. It is quite the humbling experience.

When she tells all this to Santana, Santana only smiles and simply says, "You get now why I do what I do."

Surprisingly, or not so surprisingly, McPherson suddenly calls one day, to tell her the Broadway producers for the planned Barbara Streisand musical are suddenly interested in her. She wasn't born yesterday and she knows this has more to do with the unexpected publicity the protests at Taft High have generated, along with the fact that they now realize they have a saint on their hands who is guaranteed to attract theatergoers who are curious to see the famed Rachel Berry, also known as Rachel Corcoran on Broadway. She rolls her eyes at this, although of course she also cannot deny the ego boost a callback from the producers has given her. "They're not guaranteeing anything yet, but it still looks promising!" McPherson says.

When she excitedly says this to Santana, once, while they are watching the late night news on yet another segment on the Brooklyn Beatz protest, Suzie tucked safely in her bed, asleep and dreaming, Santana grins, happy for her and gives her a kiss and a tight hug.

"I'm so happy for you, baby," Santana says, as they kiss and cuddle on the couch, television forgotten.

Santana's whole body is wrapped around her as she kisses Rachel and Rachel likes this feeling, just being able to spend a night like this with Santana.

But then, Santana stops kissing her.

Rachel, sensing that something is on Santana's mind, moves back and asks, "What?"

Santana shakes her head. "Nothing."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "I know there's something. Come on, out with it."

Santana sighs. "Okay, don't get mad but…" Santana pauses then plunges on. "Guess this means we're postponing the wedding? What with all this… chaos and confusion…"

As Rachel listens, Santana says, carefully, "I mean I totally understand and I know you can only take so much except…I_ really_ want to marry you…Like right now…or yesterday…I mean… I don't even really want a fancy wedding. I just want that ring on your finger. I just want you to be my wife."

Rachel looks at her, thinks it over and simply says, quietly, "Then let's do it."

Santana looks at her, like she has grown an extra head. "What?"

"Let's do it," Rachel says again, "Let's get married at City Hall."

Santana looks at her, even more uncertainly. "Are you sure?" she asks. "I mean, isn't this every girl's dream or something?"

Rachel looks at her, puzzled, and asks, half-jokingly, "Every girl dreams of having a lesbian wedding?"

Santana grins and shrugs, "Of course. They just don't know it yet."

Rachel chuckles softly, careful not to wake Suzie up. Then she looks at Santana, runs the back of her hand on Santana's cheek and says, "It doesn't matter to me either, honey. I just want to call you mine, too."

Rachel isn't sure, but she thinks she hasn't seen Santana grin like that so widely in all the years she has known her, like she has just won the lottery, and the jackpot prize and every other prize on earth. Santana pulls her closer, kisses her. Then they break away and Rachel rests her head on Santana's chest, and Santana's arm curls on her shoulder. They settle back on the cushions as Rachel grabs the remote and switches channels.

They watch in silence for a few minutes, before Santana suddenly says, "I already am, you know."

Rachel tilts her head to look up at Santana. She knits her brows. "What?"

"Yours." Santana smiles at her tenderly. "Always."

* * *

And so Santana and Rachel get married one spring day with only Suzie in attendance, Suzie, who would have thrown a fit had she known they were getting married, and had not included her. Rachel keeps the Claddagh ring Santana gives her when she proposes to her even though Santana insists they should have those plain wedding gold bands that other couples have. "You just want it because it reminds you of 'Lord of the Rings'," Rachel points out, smiling.

Santana eventually relents and demands that Rachel give the ring. When Rachel asks what she is going to do with it, Santana only smiles mysteriously, and says, "You'll see."

Rachel finds out later, during the ceremony itself, when Santana gives the ring back to her. Santana has engraved her name on it and has also bought another Claddagh ring for herself as well that Rachel slips on her ring finger.

They are married in a simple, unceremonious judicial ceremony, with only Suzie, the judge and the secretary, who also double as witnesses, in attendance. Santana drives Suzie to school later and Rachel goes home, but they feel that that part of their life is finally settled.

Later that day, Santana comes home with an expensive bottle of champagne and some take-out vegetarian and pepperoni pizzas from Luigi's.

Rachel lets Santana have her slices of onion on her pizza, after Santana promises she will brush later, since it is their wedding day after all, and Santana happily attacks her pizza with relish. Santana still takes out the tomatoes on Rachel's pizza as she still does not like it, whilst Suzie just happily eats slices of pepperoni and vegetarian pizza whilst taking sips of her apple juice.

While they are eating their slices of pizza Suzie grins at her mothers and says, "Hey, mom…"

Santana looks up, enjoying the taste of sliced onions in her mouth for the first time in years, asks, "What?"

"I'm so happy you guys finally got _married_," Suzie comments now. "I mean, god, it took you long enough!"

The women laugh as Suzie rolls her eyes. Then the girl stops. "I don't know though how you guys are going to break it to Uncle Kurt. He's going to be _devastated._" She stops and thinks about this then comments, "But it's fine. Serves him right for not agreeing to have a dinosaur-themed wedding. I mean, Mom, velociraptors are cool! And stegosauruses, Mom! They're like…the awesomest dinosaurs ever!"

Rachel and Santana laugh. Then Santana's smile disappears when she realizes what Suzie has just said. "Oh, god, I really have to make it up to Kurt, don't I?" she says now, morosely.

Suzie nods matter-of-factly. "Yup."

"I am so not relishing the thought of breaking that news to your best friend, babe," Santana says now to Rachel.

"Well, you can always hook him up with big, muscular guys in tight, tight pants and tight tee shirts, he seems to like those," Suzie offers helpfully. "Although I think he likes them mostly shirtless, really."

"Uh, no," Rachel says, shaking her head. "And…Suzie…eewww…"

Santana thinks for a moment. She sighs. "I'll think of something."

Both women had agreed they would keep their marriage a secret to everyone first, and have already made Suzie promise not to tell anyone until Rachel and Santana are ready to break the news to everyone. Rachel already does not know how to tell her parents, and Santana isn't exactly relishing the idea of telling her family that they have gone ahead and gotten married without the Lopezes in attendance, a particularly unforgiveable mortal sin in the Lopez family if Dr. and Mrs. Lopez are to be asked. Plus there is Quinn, Sam, Kurt and a few other friends who may not take a secret wedding too well. Santana just looks at Rachel now, shrugging, and Rachel, still on a high from having gotten married to Santana in the first place, says, "We'll deal in the morning." Santana nods, sighing.

"Hey, mom," Suzie says again.

Santana asks, "What?"

Suzie swallows what she is chewing, drinks her apple juice, then starts singing,

"_Oh, give me a home where the buffalo roam  
Where the deer and the antelope play  
Where seldom is heard a discouraging word  
And the skies are not cloudy all day…" _

Santana laughs. "That all you got, kiddo?" she asks. " 'Cause that's pretty lame!" she teasingly says, chuckling. "And it's 'Home on the Range', by the way."

Suzie giggles. "Fine, let's see what you guys have."

"I have one," Rachel volunteers between mouthfuls of pizza.

"Okay, out with it, Mee," Suzie says, wriggling her eyebrows.

Rachel grins, takes a drink of wine, swallows, clears her throat, starts singing,

"_Another summer day  
Has come and gone away  
In Paris and Rome  
But I wanna go home…"_

She is looking at Santana the whole time, a smile on her face, as she sings the song. Santana smiles back, mouths "I love you" to her.

Then Santana grins and scrunches her nose. "Too easy," she says, playfully. "'Home' by Michael Bublé."

"Well, I'd like to see you try then," Rachel says, quirking her lips in a smile.

"Fine," Santana says, looking up at the ceiling as if she is thinking of a song. Then she takes a sip of wine, looks at Rachel with a tender look in her eyes, smiles and starts singing.

"_Somethin' in your eyes, makes me wanna lose myself  
Makes me wanna lose myself, in your arms  
There's somethin' in your voice, makes my heart beat fast  
Hope this feeling lasts, the rest of my life…"_

Rachel does not know then, but as Santana sings the lines to Chantal Kreviazuk's "Feels Like Home" she feels this singular groundswell of emotion from deep within her, and it hits her, like a massive wall of ocean waves, that Santana, finally and officially, is her wife, is hers. She does not know why, but this realization fills her with something akin to indescribable happiness and she looks at Santana as she sings it, feels herself choke up, feels tears well up in her eyes as she reaches out to grab Santana's hand and squeeze it, overcome with emotion.

Santana smiles at her then and, standing up, offers her hand to Rachel and says, "Shall we dance? It's customary for the newlyweds to have their wedding dance."

Suzie claps her hands in delight as she watches Rachel nod and take Santana's hand, blinking back the tears from her eyes. They stand up and Santana takes her in her arms, her arms going around Rachel's waist as she rests her face on Rachel's shoulder. Rachel leans on Santana's chest, inhales Santana's faint floral scent as she continues to sing the next lines,

"_If you knew how lonely my life has been  
And how long I've been so alone  
And if you knew how I wanted someone to come along  
And change my life the way you've done…"_

Then Santana pulls back, cups Rachel's cheek in her hand, gazes deep into her eyes and sings the chorus,

"_It feels like home to me, it feels like home to me  
It feels like I'm all the way back where I come from  
It feels like home to me, it feels like home to me  
It feels like I'm all the way back where I belong…"_

"I love you, too," Rachel whispers now, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"Aaaw, baby, don't cry," Santana says, her hand coming up to wipe the tears from Rachel's eyes. "You know you look weird when you cry."

In spite of herself, Rachel laughs, then she pouts and hits Santana on the arm.

"Ow," Santana mutters.

Suzie giggles behind them, as she continues to eat her pizza.

The two women each grab their wine glasses and clink the glasses together before sipping the wine.

"And that's 'Feels Like Home' by Chantal Kreviazuk, by the way," Rachel says now, smiling.

"Aw, darn it, and I was hoping you wouldn't be able to guess that!" Santana remarks, mock dejection on her face as she grins.

Rachel rolls her eyes. She takes a sip of her wine again.

"Chantal," Suzie comments, thinking. "I like that name."

Rachel nods and comments, "It's a nice name." She takes another sip of her wine.

"Totally," Suzie says, looking at Rachel and Santana steadily. "That could totally be the name for my future little brother…or sister…"

Rachel almost chokes and spits out her wine. She coughs twice, brings her hand up to rub her chest as Santana comes up to rub her back. She feels her face burn. She looks to Santana and finds that the other woman is positively squirming, uncomfortable and blushing as well.

"Or whatever, you know?" Suzie comments now. "I'm totally down for a little adopted brother or sister. Or whatever…"

There is a silence as the two women look at each other, unable to say anything.

Then Santana clears her throat, looks at Rachel and asks, "Uh, want some more wine?"

"Oh, god, please," Rachel quickly answers, offering her glass to Santana, who quickly fills it up with the wine.

Santana moves to ruffle Suzie's head and says, "You are a naughty, naughty girl…"

Suzie looks up at her, all innocent and oblivious and asks, "What?"

Santana and Rachel smile at her as they sip their wine. Santana shakes her head.

Rachel's hand comes up to wrap Santana by the waist and she pulls Santana close to her. Santana's arm automatically comes to rest on Rachel's shoulder as she kisses Rachel on the cheek.

Rachel thinks this could be the happiest day of her life.

Later, when the newlyweds retreat to their room, for what Santana jokingly says is honeymoon sex, all Rachel can hear in her head, long after they are stark-naked and sated and spent is Santana singing Chantal Kreviazuk's "Feels Like Home" in her ear…

"_It feels like home to me, it feels like home to me  
It feels like I'm all the way back where I come from  
It feels like home to me, it feels like home to me  
It feels like I'm all the way back where I belong…"_

Rachel does finally feel like she is home…

* * *

She almost forgets about it, a few days after, but then the insistent beeping of a horn, coupled by the insistent ringing of the doorbell, and the person, well, persons, revealed on their front door steps, remind her of something she has forgotten in all the commotion.

She had been having breakfast pancakes with Santana and Suzie. It is a lazy early Saturday spring morning like all the other Saturdays they have spent together as a family. Today, they are discussing Santana's parents' twenty fifth anniversary wedding to be held in a few weeks in Ohio. Santana had rolled her eyes at the idea of her parents renewing their vows. "I think it's romantic," Rachel had commented, to which Santana had said, with a smile, "Of course you would." They are all going to the wedding and party and Suzie is excited at the prospect of going to Ohio and seeing her grandparents. They had been talking about what they are going to wear when the doorbell had rung and Rachel had been surprised, upon opening the door, that it is Baz, Gloria, Mr. Smith and the rest of the Beatz.

She nods now at the other kids leaning by Mr. Smith's old, beat up van, waves at Mr. Smith and Gloria and the others leaning by Gloria's small car.

"Hi, Miz B!" Baz greets her with a wide grin on his face.

"What are you doing here?" Rachel asks, squinting against the light and shivering against the early morning cold as she draws her jacket closer to herself.

Baz looks at her like she has gone crazy and says, in disbelief, "Finals, Miz B! We came to get you for finals!"

* * *

_**Author's end notes:**_

_**That's it for this chapter! Again, many thanks for reading and reviewing this chapter kindly! ;)**_

_**Apologies for taking a bit longer than usual to update. That last chap (chap 25) exhausted me, no lie. Plus the beta and I have been busy (what with work and the holidays and stuff), but thanks for your patience! Also, belated Happy Thanksgiving to everyone! Hope you guys had the best holidays (I know it's like, a week late but better late than never!) . :)**_

_**Also, many thanks for the warm response and kind reviews for Chapter 25. Your comments were, as always, surprising, humbling, heartwarming and encouraging.**_

_**Special shout out goes to my beta DragonsWillFly for the comments, suggestions, ideas, and hilarity! More power to you! :)**_

_**Now, on to your comments:**_

_**To iWasAlover, gleekmx1, SoFlaComet, CarolineSC and frustratedwriter - Glad you all loved chapter 25, the kids taking a stand, Rachel, Suzie and everything else! :) Thanks for reading and reviewing! Hope you all enjoyed chapter 26 as well! It's not chapter 25 (and I didn't really set out to top that chapter), but I hope you liked it anyway! ;) And SoFlaComet, as always, you're welcome.**_

_**To silent lucidity - Thanks for loving this story! We (my beta and I) love our quotes! And like you, I'm a sucker for teacher-students-good-prevails themes as well. I'm glad Suzie's wit and street smarts and interactions with Rachel make you smile. :) Thank you for your kind words. Hope you enjoyed this chapter.**_

_**To amazinglife18 - I really enjoyed your review. Thank you. Glad you loved Tipper Potts! Yes, we love our Anna Farris (my beta and I are hoping she'd guest star on "Glee")! As for the controversy at the school, yes, that was tough to write, but I wanted to continue exploring realism in this fic. Yes, Rachel can inspire and does deserve the people in her life (something I think the show kind of missed out on, characterization-wise) and yes, the kids' reaction to her being sacked is a natural outcome of this. I'm glad you learned and/or remembered important and inspiring quotes (I'm on a mission to make fan fic a fun space to explore that). I have always loved the Starfish story and couldn't resist including it here. Lastly, many thanks for reading and reviewing and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**_

_**To parker88 - Hi! Just want to say, glad you found the song choices, the ending and the chapter awesome! (Of course, you can never go wrong with Beatles, as you know!haha!) As for Mr. Schue making a man out of every single guy in Glee, that really irritated me, as well and is singularly one of the most annoying, sexist things I have ever seen on Glee or anywhere on TV really. And yes, I totally agree, Rachel is definitely the better teacher. I wish they'd made her Glee Club adviser on Season 4, really. That would have made more sense. Anyway, thanks for reading and reviewing. :-) Hope you enjoyed this chapter. I don't think I can top chapter 25, but I hope you liked this one nonetheless. :)**_

_**To MelovePezberry - Thank you for the review! Glad you loved everything about chapter 25. I'm sorry it made you cry though. hahah! Kidding. :-) I don't know if I can ever top chapter 25, but I hope you liked this chapter anyway. Thanks for reading and reviewing!**_

_**To kutee - Thanks for loving chapter 25. Thanks for reading and reviewing! Hope you liked chap 26 too!**_

_**To ichigo111981 - Wow, you powered through seven chapters! Haha! Yes, Rachel has been through a lot since you've been away, but hope you liked the journey she's been on thus far. Anyway, thanks for reading and reviewing the rest of the chapters! Glad you find all of it amazing! Anyway, hope you liked chapter 26 too!**_

_**Songs featured:**_

_**"Everyday" from "High School Musical" (Part Two) (Because seriously, I don't know of any tween who doesn't love this series. And since Suzie and Kate are tweens, they, of course, love High School Musical as well. Plus, I just take perverse pleasure in having a character from Glee and two would-be gay, young OCs in a femslash fic singing a known straight song from Disney. Haha!)**_

_**"Home on the Range" from "Woody's Roundup" soundtrack**_

_**"Home" by Michael Bublé**_

_**"Feels like Home" by Chantal Kreviazuk (Because I love Chantal and I love this song and Santana can totally sing this! But, then again, she can probably sing **_**anything**_**.)**_


	27. Finals:The Beatz That My Heart Skipped

_**Author's note: Dear readers, Chapter 27 is up! Happy reading! **_

* * *

Rachel looks at the kids, all puzzled and surprised.

Baz looks at her, uncertainty and disappointment forming on his face. "Don't tell me you forgot, Miz B."

Rachel smiles sheepishly. "Sorry, with all the…" and she gestures vaguely, making a sweeping motion with one hand, "Chaos…I kind of forgot about it…"

"Sarcilege!" Baz says so confidently, mock horror on his face, tossing his head up so his dreads fly in all directions. Rachel almost laughs.

"Baz, it's '_sacrilege_', not '_sarcilege_'," she gently corrects the boy, smiling.

Baz grins. "Sorry, Miz B. My bad."

"Miz B, he ain't Baz no more," Kareem pipes up, smiling at Rachel.

" '_Isn't'_," she automatically corrects Kareem, patiently and says, "And it's _'anymore'_, not _'no more'. _So what's his name now?"

" '_Zee'_," Kareem says. "He's simply _'Zee'_."

"_Zee._" Rachel grins. "I like it."

Zee, formerly known as Baz, grins. Kareem shrugs. "Yeah. I be trying to give him an African name or something, but he didn't want anything that had a click or a pop in it and he didn't think 'Shark Bait' and 'Shaft' were cool, so," Kareem says. "There's one that's really cool. It's '_Na-ka-lu-lu-nu' _" - and here Kareem clicks his tongue - "A-a."

"Yeah, if I were a horse or a dog and you were riding me."

"That didn't sound dirty _at all_."

"Well, that's not as bad as the time you tried to hit on a girl at the semi-finals by saying she's the only one you want to mount on your wall…"

"That slap was so worth it…"

"Well it's still better than Mr. S's moves!"

"No it's not!"

"Mr. S got no game!"

"Hey! I'm right here!"

"Sorry, Mr. S! But you got no game!"

"Okay." Rachel just smiles, trying hard not to laugh. "I think that might be hard to pronounce though."

Kareem thinks about it and agrees. "You have a point, Miz B."

"Also, you forgot one minuscule, inconsequential detail about finals," Rachel says now.

"What's that, Miz B?" Zee asks.

"I'm no longer your Glee Club Adviser," Rachel reminds them, "So I don't know about being allowed to join you for finals."

"It don't matter, Miz B," Zee states. "We want you there. This was your baby anyway. You deserve to be there."

"Yeah!" the other kids say, nodding vigorously in agreement.

Gloria now steps forward and announces, "Quit hogging Miz B! Lemme through."

The kids part to let her through and she looks at Rachel, smiles and then says, "Hey, you. We've missed you. Come give us a hug."

Rachel smiles back and hugs her. "Hey, Gloria, how's everything?"

Gloria steps back, rolls her eyes and says, "Ugh. Taft isn't the same without you. No one to bother me about sheet music and after school Glee practices and all that." She grins. "How are you?"

"I'm good, thank you," Rachel says, smiling. She looks at the kids. "Do you guys want to come in?"

"Naw. We just came to fetch you. We've missed you Miz B."

"Yeah, the new teacher don't want us reading Naomi Wolf's book, 'Vagina: A Biography'."

"Or Eve Ensler's 'Vagina Monologues'."

"Yeah, she kind of looked funny after, especially when Kenyatta actually started reading excerpts from 'Vagina Monologues'! Didn't know there were so many names for vagina!"

"Ooooh, the best part was when Kenyatta made those sounds when she be trying to show the many kinds of orgasms women have…"

Rachel laughs. "First of all…Ewww…And second of all, giving your new teacher a hard time, I see?"

The kids grin.

"Heck, yeah! You know that's how we roll, Miz B," Zee says.

She looks at the kids. "What time is the contest anyway? I think you're a little too early. Doesn't it start later this morning?"

Zee beams. "You did remember! Awesome!"

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Of course I did. I just didn't think you guys would go through with it. What with all the media attention you're getting and all that stuff you were doing with the website."

The kids sheepishly look down on the ground, embarrassed.

"I particularly liked that graphic you designed and posted, the one with the words,_ 'Make awkward sexual advances, not war on the arts!'_" Rachel says now, slightly sarcastically. "Because that's very appropriate, obviously."

The kids stay silent, seemingly ashamed. Zee looks at Rachel. "You mad, Miz B? We sorry about that."

Rachel smiles. "No, I'm not mad."

"We just thought…" And here Zee stops, thinks a bit, then continues, "Maybe if we just did something, maybe people would listen. You told us not trying is worse than failing and all that…"

"Yeah," Kareem says now, "We know it probably kind of made you a bit embarrassed but…"

"We couldn't just let this happen to you like that," Zee says. "It was the only way we could show our support, and still be able to go to class…and still be able to practice for the finals."

"It was the only way we could show how much you meant to us," Hannah and Maya say to her, stepping forward as they do so.

"How much you _still_ mean to us," Kenyatta speaks up, giving Rachel a small smile.

"The point is, no one ever thought we'd amount to much," Anferny suddenly says, "But you did and you never gave up."

"And that's something we be carryin' with us for the rest of our lives," Zee adds. "Although we sorry we couldn't get your job back," Zee says apologetically, face crestfallen.

Rachel smiles. "It's fine, Zee, really."

Then Zee's face brightens up. "But, the good news is, the other teachers won't lose their jobs! So, that's great!"

"Yeah!" the others agree.

"As you said, Miz B, sometimes, you gotta lose the battle to win the war!" Zee adds.

Rachel chuckles. "I _did_ say that, didn't I?"

Anferny smiles at Rachel now. "I've got an interview, Miz B."

Rachel raises her eyebrows in question. "Interview where?"

Anferny continues to smile. "NYADA, Miz B. The school you recommended to me. Mrs. G is going with me. Mrs. G also helped the others with their college applications and stuff."

"Yeah, I gave my application, too, Miz B," Zee says proudly. "To that community college you suggested I try. Mrs. G helped me with the forms and stuff. And Mr. Smith, a little."

Rachel smiles. "I'm very happy you're all going to college."

She looks at her kids, a surge of pride coming to her. "Although, you guys make it seem like I did it all by myself. That was all you, you know. All you. I just showed you the door, as it were. Gave you a little push in the right direction, is all."

The kids beam at her.

"Yeah! Pushy is right!" Kareem quips. "And bossy!"

"_Push_, Kareem, I said _push_," Rachel corrects him. "Although I guess that's right, too."

"It just takes one person, Miz B," Kareem says now, holding up one index finger. "Just one person to believe in us. To help bring out the best in us, you know?"

Rachel smiles at him.

"Kareem, put that finger away before you hurt someone!"

"Shut up!"

Isabelle and Ruth now step forward, clutching each other's hands, nervous and shy and awkward. Ruth speaks up now, voice small and shaky, eyes unable to look at Rachel. "Miz B, before anything else…" she starts, swallows, blinks, unable to look Rachel in the eye, "We'd like to apologize for everything that's happened…for getting you into trouble and all…We're really sorry…"

Rachel looks at Ruth, puts her hand on Ruth's shoulder so that the girl looks up at her. "It's okay, Ruth. It wasn't your fault. Don't ever think it was your fault."

"You're not mad?" Ruth asks now. Isabelle looks up, hopeful.

Rachel shakes her head. "No. Never." She holds out her hands and smiles.

Ruth and Isabelle grin. They step forward to hug Rachel, then let go after and step back.

"I don't mean to be an asshole," Zee interrupts, "But you coulda locked your door, you know!"

Ruth and Isabelle look at him. Ruth sighs. "Fair point."

"Kinda cool you scored with a chick though," Zee says now. He holds up his arms in victory and says, "Respect! Fist pump!"

Ruth rolls her eyes. Isabelle laughs.

Kenyatta steps forward. "Miz B…we're really sorry about our parents…and everything…"

Rachel smiles and shakes her head. "What, am I talking to myself here?" she says, "It's _fine_. Stop apologizing, okay?"

"Okay, Miz B!" Zee says and the others follow suit, nodding and grinning.

"Yeah! But Kenyatta be apologizing too for getting you into trouble and shit, too, Miz B!"

"Shut up!"

"Guys, language, and don't tease Kenyatta like that, it's not nice," Rachel chides them now. "Kenyatta is an adult like all of you are and you just need to take responsibility for your actions, that's all."

"Sorry, Miz B!"

"I'm sorry about getting you into trouble, though," Kenyatta softly says now.

"It's okay, Kenyatta," Rachel says.

"By the way…we…have something for you, Miz B," Zee says. He looks around at the other kids and nods his head. The others nod back in acknowledgement.

Rachel is curious about what they are going to do, but then she holds up her hand and says, "I have something to say to you guys, I'm sorry about…not being honest with you before, about…being gay and all…"

"Wait, your _gay_, Miz B?" Zee says, mock horror on his face. "Oh, my god! That's just whack! And if you haven't noticed, Miz B, I'm _black_. Most of us are."

"Oh my god, you're _black?_" Rachel says, matching Zee's expression with the same mock horror on her face.

The other kids laugh as Rachel rolls her eyes.

"Just kidding, Miz B!" Zee grins. "Miz B, we kind of guessed you were…"

"What?" Rachel asks.

"Hell yeah…" Zee says, matter-of-factly. Rachel looks at the others and they nod and give her an encouraging smile. "Language, language, I know…it's just…well, you kind of gave that gay vibe, you know?"

"I did?" Rachel wonders.

"He be stereotyping, Miz B. Sorry, he's just being an idiot," Kareem says. "But yeah, there was some gay vibe there. You know, like Jodie Foster or something."

"Yeah! All tough and no-nonsense!" McG says.

"Yeah! Not like, Rosie O'Donell gay, or Ellen De Generes goofy gay, or Portia de Rossi trophy wife kind of gay, or out-of-control Lindsay Lohan DUI kind of gay or, you know, Michelle Rodriguez 'just-come-out-already' kind of gay, but more…Jodie Foster elegant kind of gay…"

"Uh…didn't know there were many kinds of…gay," Rachel says now.

"Heck, yeah, Miz B!" the kids say.

"Learned it from the lesbian nation! The lesbian blogger community is awesome!"

"What the heck are you doing going on lesbian internet sites, Zee?"

"So, Zee, are you actually a lesbian trapped inside a boy's body?!"

"I be educating myself, fools!"

"Oh, is that why you _marathoned_ the L-Word, Zee?"

"Hey, two words for you: Jennifer Beals! She be awesome! And _black!_"

"_Half-_black, Zee."

"Don't care! She awesome!"

"I thought Miz B was bilingual…"

Rachel looks confused now. "Uh, as much as I hate to admit it, I only speak English…I speak Spanish very, very badly," she admits now, attributing her embarrassingly rudimentary knowledge of Spanish from having lived with Santana this long. Then again, Santana's knowledge of Yiddish is even sadder. "And maybe a smattering of French."

"English? Spanish? French? Doesn't bilingual mean…you know, being into both men and women?"

There is a silence.

"_Anyway_, there's Suzie, too," Zee adds, to break the awkward silence.

"And that ring on your finger, Miz B?" McG says, "Dead giveaway. I may be black, but I know about Irish stuff and Claddaghs!"

"That's 'cause you're a geek, McG! And need to get laid, _stat!_"

"Shut up!"

"Well, nothing seems to escape you," Rachel comments, grinning.

"Besides," Zee says now, "No matter how many times Mr. S and a couple of the other guy teachers came on to you, you kinda never showed no interest in them."

"Well, that's probably because Mr. S is kind of a jerk," Gloria supplies.

"I'm right here!"

"Sorry, Mr. S, it's true," Gloria says.

"Well, there is that. You gotta point, Mrs. G! Sorry, Mr. S!" Zee admits. "Anyway, we don't care really, who you with," Zee says now, turning to look at Rachel.

Kareem leans over and says, "Even if the straight, white males in power do!"

"There was that one white, gay dude on the school board though…"

"Who didn't give a shit, really…and shot our petition down right from the get-go…"

"That's 'cause that white gay dude was _still_ a privileged, entitled, sexist, misogynist, racist, white dude who doesn't get it."

"They never do."

"Didn't get what it means to be black."

"Or Hispanic."

"Or Asian."

"Or gay."

"Or a woman."

"He was being an asshole, is all!"

"Dudes, wanting the powers that be to listen to the minority students in Brooklyn is like asking Vanna White to have a deeper relationship with the vowels in 'Wheel of Fortune'."

"So, screw it, damn the man!"

"Who's Vanna White?"

Rachel manages to interrupt their discussion and asks, curious, "What petition?"

"The petition to reinstate you as teacher and Glee Club adviser," Gloria supplies.

This surprises Rachel. She had not known about this.

"You guys did that for me?" Rachel asks now, quite touched by this gesture.

"Well, yeah, duh," Zee says.

"Thank you very much. I'm very proud of all of you," Rachel says now.

"Anyway, you don't owe us no explanation, Miz B," Zee says now. "Ain't nobody's business who you with but yours. You just bein' true to yourself, is all. Being gay got nothing to do with being a good teacher. Love is love, Miz B! We don't care what the straight, white males in power say!"

"Hell yeah!" the others agree.

"Preach!"

"I'm horrified with your double negatives, but thank you," Rachel smiles. "Anyway, you have something for me, you said? Is it the set list for Finals?"

"Uh, no," Zee says, shaking his head. "But speaking of finals, we already have a set list."

"And we can assure you, Miz B, it's gonna be awesome," Kareem says. "Nothing offensive or whatever. Although we be having a hard time choosing the songs for the set list."

"Yeah, especially since nobody wants to sing Tina Turner!"

"Yeah, Zee, that's 'cause you wanted us to sing 'Private Dancer', you idiot!"

"Is she still alive?"

"Sacrilege!"

"Yeah, but you almost approved Mr. S's suggestion that we be singing 'Don't Give Up on Us Baby'. I hate that song! You sang that to me out on the ledge, Mr. S. Bad memories. Trauma forever. I mean, no offense Mr. S, but Bread? Seals and Crofts? John Denver? James Taylor? Michael Learns to Rock? Air Supply? Barry Manilow? Seriously, Mr. S, we've discovered why you can't get dates."

"Hey! I think Barry Manilow be awesome!"

"You would! You find Michael Bolton awesome!"

"Shut up!"

"I still can't believe you don't want us singing a Taylor Swift song though!"

"Yeah, of course, because there's absolutely nothing wrong with singing songs from the one of the whitest, girli-est girls in all of the nation who is only capable of writing songs about her relationships! Sometimes, I think she _has_ relationships so she can write about them!"

"Ignore them, Miz B. _I_ wanted 1979! By Smashing Pumpkins! But nobody wanted Smashing Pumpkins!"

"Why do they call themselves Pumpkins?"

"Because watermelons was taken…"

"Really? That doesn't make sense."

"That's like asking why those guys call themselves 'Counting Crows'. I mean, why crows? Why not pigeons? Or eagles?"

"Well, pigeons just don't sound cool enough. I mean, they might as well call themselves 'Counting Hamsters'. And eagles are endangered, you know?"

"Zee, no offense, and you know I got your back all the time, and you my homey, but you're still an idiot."

"Well, why does Sting call himself 'Sting'?"

"Dunno, maybe he's allergic to bees?"

"And there's that guy named 'Meatloaf'. Every time I think of him, it just makes me hungry."

"But hip hop artists have weird names, too."

"Hey,don't be dissing hip hop! They be cool like that!"

"Got a better question for you…what exactly is 'Victoria's Secret'?"

"Focus you guys, focus! Geez." Kareem says now, sighing. "Yeah, Miz B, there was much argument about what songs to sing. Someone, I'm not saying who…" and here he looks at Zee, pointedly, "Wanted Pink Floyd's 'Brick in the Wall', but I doubt that's going to help us win. And there was also…"

"Why 's his name 'Pink Floyd'?"

"Shut up, Zee," Kareem says, impatiently.

"Aaaw, Kareem, you also didn't want us singing songs by 'Hootie and the Blowjob'."

"Blowfish, Zee, _Blowfish_," Kareem corrects him, impatiently.

"Whatever, they have cool songs," Zee says. "Along with 'Toad the Wet Socket'. Why'd you think they're called that?"

Kareem sighs again, looks up at the blue sky and shakes his head. "Sprocket, Zee, _Sprocket_. If you're not screwing names up, or suggesting strange songs, you're suggesting gay ones. Why?"

"Yeah, like songs by Cher, or Donna Summer or Sister Sledge or some such shit. And disco! What's the matter with you?"

"Shut up. I think 'We Are Family' is a cool song, y'all!"

"He's right though about that!"

"_Anyway_," Kareem interrupts them again, then looks to Rachel, "As you may have guessed, we had trouble with the set list, and the choreography, because somebody wanted a move that was supposed to be a hand jive but ended up making us look like we were giving hand jobs…"

Rachel grimaces.

"But…we kinda figured it all out, and as you can see, we're going minimalist for finals, Miz B, and we got Mrs. G to conduct for us," Kareem continues, indicating the purple shirts they are wearing with the jeans they have and the Converse All Star sneakers they are wearing and next gesturing to Gloria, who smiles nervously at Rachel.

Presently, Suzie wanders out, perhaps curious and wondering why Rachel had not gone back to the house. When she sees the Beatz in front of the house, congregating around her mother, a wide grin breaks out of her face. The kids spot her and each one waves a hand and greets her with, "Hey, Shrub!" "Shrub in da house, y'all!" "How's it going, Shrub?!" "What's up, Shrub?!" "Long time, no see, Shrub!" "Missed you as much as we missed Miz B, Shrub!" The kids come up to give her fist pumps, high fives, low fives, a squeeze on the shoulder, hugs from the girls and grins.

"Language, people," Rachel warns now as she watches Suzie and the kids.

Suzie sees Zee, puts up her right hand, and Zee leans over, grabs it with his own right hand, then he leans closer to bump his right shoulder with Suzie's right shoulder, their free hands patting each other's shoulders, in a familiar homey kind of greeting and then pull back, nod their heads and say, at the same time, "Dude!"

"Heard you got the girl!" Zee beams down at her now. "I'm guessing my mix helped?"

"Yeah," Suzie says, grinning back. "Thanks!"

Zee nods in appreciation and says, "Respect!"

A few minutes later, Santana comes out of the apartment as well and says, "Rach, what is going on here?"

Santana stops when she sees the kids all gathered around Rachel and Suzie. The kids stop at the same time and look in her direction as she stands by the doorstep, in her short, tight skirt, a silky, satin crimson blouse under a dark blazer and high heeled boots. She does not expect the visitors that have gathered in front of their apartment, and she knits her brows, surprised and confused, as she runs her hand on her thick, dark hair falling in loose waves around her shoulders and back. The kids seem to have stopped, distracted, and Rachel almost hears the collective intake of breath as they stare at Santana. There is a silence as Santana and the kids size each other up. Suzie, oblivious as always, skips up to her mother and says, "Hey, mom. Mee's kids came to visit. Isn't that cool?"

Santana smiles, still surprised that Rachel's kids are here. She turns and gives Rachel a questioning look.

"Finals, San," Rachel says, by way of explanation, shrugging.

After a silence, one of the kids, Zee, whistles, and Rachel turns and she sees him shaking his head, his face full of admiration. He looks impressed as he looks from Rachel to Santana and back.

Finally, Zee says, "Miz B, we know this be going to be inappropriate but can we just say…your partner is smokin' hot!"

His comment sets off a barrage of comments from the other kids.

"Like really hot!"

"Like totally hot!"

"Whatever you do, Zee, don't say she the only one you would mount on your wall!"

"Shut up! You make it sound like I'm Mr. S! Mr. S got no game!"

"I can see why Miz B wouldn't be interested in Mr. S!"

"Hey! I heard that!"

"She look like one of those hot models in those women's magazines, Miz B!"

"She a model Miz B?"

"_Guys, no. She's a lawyer."_

"We don't know what Victoria's Secret is, but we certainly know _your_ secret Miz B!"

"Aw, that's so awesome! Miz B, just when we thought you couldn't get any cooler, you go and snag a hot lawyer! Awesome!"

"Truth!"

"Respect!"

"_Thanks… I guess."_

"I can see now why you're gay."

"I'd totally go gay too if my partner is hot like that!"

"Zee, you comin' out finally?"

"Shut _up_."

"I wish I was gay."

"That's just ridiculous."

"That's like wanting to be white, because, you know, you don't feel so black no more."

"Yeah, you're _born_ gay."

"Oh, I…don't know about that…"

"_Guys, if you start discussing that, we're going to be here til next year."_

"So how'd you snag her, Miz B?"

"Did you sing and make those funny faces? 'Cause that's always sexy!"

"Or did you stare her down 'til she agreed to go out with you?"

"Did you present a PowerPoint presentation on the merits of dating you?"

"Was there some storyboarding involved? Post-its? Colored markers?"

"Did you keep asking her out 'til she said yes?"

"Because, as you know, failing is better than not trying at all."

"Did you sing needlessly aggressively to her face?!"

Santana laughs, flattered, in spite of herself, by the initial compliments from the kids, as she listens to the kids tease Rachel. "No," she answers gamely, jokingly, "She kind of cried this weird kind of crying that involved making that funny face she always makes when she cries…til I agreed to go out with her."

The kids grin and giggle and chuckle and one of them says, "Oooh, we've seen that one. That's a winner, Miz B! Nice!"

"Respect!"

"Just kidding, Miz B!" one of the kids say in a sing-song voice.

Rachel face flushed from the teasing, rolls her eyes, mock glares at the kids and says, "I'd flunk you all now, if I could." Then she turns to Santana and says, "You're in a lot of trouble later."

Rachel then introduces Santana to the kids and the girls grin and step up to shake her hand, whilst the boys wave and shyly look at her and look down on the ground and scuff their shoes on the pavement.

"On behalf of everyone," Zee says, "Nice to meet you, Miz L!"

Santana smiles and says, "Nice to meet all of you, too." The two women had decided they would just keep their maiden names, just to make it easier on everyone, and Santana has now removed the "Pierce" in her last name.

The kids then go back to chatting amongst themselves and Suzie skips off to join them.

Rachel also introduces Santana to Gloria, who smiles and shakes her hand and Mr. Smith. Santana looks at Mr. Smith now, stretching out her hand. Mr. Smith smiles and sheepishly accepts her hand.

"So," Santana begins, voice low and even and, Rachel could swear, slightly tinged with menace, even though she is smiling tightly, "_You're_ Mr. Smith."

Mr. Smith smiles awkwardly, uncomfortably. "Nice to meet you, ma'am."

Rachel watches as Santana shakes his hand. Then she sees Santana's grip tighten on the man, as she leans over, and barely catches Santana hissing something to him. "If you ever hit on my wife again, I will kill you and make it look like an accident."

"Santana!" Rachel says now, chiding her.

Mr. Smith blinks, swallows, pulls back and jerks his hand away. He clears his throat, unable to say anything.

"Sorry," Santana mutters now.

When Rachel turns to talk to the kids, she hears Santana say to Mr. Smith, "Or cut off your balls and stick it so far down your mouth it's going to come out of your _ass_."

Rachel turns now and looks at Santana, who puts up her hands in surrender, and smiles innocently at Rachel. "Sorry," she says again.

Gloria barely stifles her laughter as she puts her hand on her mouth. She says, "Better listen to her, Mr. Smith. I don't think she's kidding."

Mr. Smith looks positively stricken and retreats to his van, looking, Rachel notes, like a scared little dog with his tail between his legs. She almost feels sorry for the man. Almost, but not quite.

Gloria then moves over and says to Santana, "I like you."

Santana grins back.

Rachel rolls her eyes.

"I like her," Gloria says to Rachel now.

"So, _anyway_," Rachel says now, loudly, turning to the students, whilst putting her arms in front of her. "You were saying you have something for me?"

Zee grins now, and motions for the other kids to come closer. "Yep, we do, Miz B." He looks and nods at Kareem. Kareem nods back, ducks into the van and pulls out the beatbox and a guitar.

The kids take their positions and wait as Kareem hands the guitar to Jamal and he himself takes his place beside the other kids, sitting down on the beatbox beside them.

"Before we go, Miz B," Zee begins. "Heard you got married. We sorry we couldn't get you any presents Miz B…I mean we didn't know what to get you…"

"And everything Zee kept coming up with always involved something inappropriate and would probably be considered a felony in all fifty states," Kareem says.

"Shut up, man!" Zee says now. "Anyway, we can give you this though…" He then looks at Anferny and nods.

"How'd you know about…" Rachel begins to ask, but then as realization sinks in, she turns to look at Suzie, who just shrugs and smiles innocently.

"Anyway, hope you like!" Zee says.

The kids take their position and the girls sing softly the first line of the Beatles' "All You Need is Love".

"_Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love…" _the girls sing.

Kareem then starts to pluck the guitar. Rachel recognizes the song as John Denver's "Annie's Song." The boys start singing the first stanza, tenor and bass blending perfectly as they look at Rachel and Santana, faces concentrating on harmonizing.

"_You fill up my senses  
Like a night in a forest  
Like the mountains in springtime  
Like a walk in the rain  
Like a storm in the desert  
Like a sleepy blue ocean  
You fill up my senses  
Come fill me again…" _

There's a silence as Anferny then segues into singing Ewan McGregor's version of "Your Song",

"_My gift is my song... and this one's for you  
And you can tell everybody that this is your song  
It may be quite simple, but now that it's done  
I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind  
That I put down in words...  
How wonderful life is, now you're in the world…"_

Anferny then stops, as the girls continue to sing the first line of the Beatles' "All You Need is Love" together.

"_Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love…"_

Then the boys sing the first stanza of The Beach Boys "God Only Knows" as the girls continue to sing "_Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love…_"

"_I may not always love you  
But long as there are stars above you  
You never need to doubt it  
I'll make you so sure about it…"_

"_Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love…" _the girls continue to sing, smiling at Rachel and Santana.

"_God only knows what I'd be without you," _the boys sing, grinning as well.

Jamal then starts strumming the chords for the song as they continue to sing. Kareem starts beating the box. Then the girls sing the next stanza of "All You Need is Love."

"_There's nothing you can do that can't be done.  
Nothing you can sing that can't be sung.  
Nothing you can say but you can learn how to play the game  
It's easy…"_

Then the boys sing the next stanza of the song,

"_There's nothing you can make that can't be made.  
No one you can save that can't be saved.  
Nothing you can do but you can learn how to be you  
in time - It's easy…"_

Then the boys and girls sing the chorus together.

"_All you need is love, all you need is love,  
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.  
Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love.  
All you need is love, all you need is love,  
All you need is love, love, love is all you need…"_

Suzie squeals in delight, as they continue and finish the song. Suzie moves back to put her arm around Santana's waist. Her mother looks down, smiles and puts her right arm around her, kissing the top of her head. Santana looks at Rachel, grins as she puts her arm over her and pulls her over.

"Your kids are really _amazing_," Santana murmurs into Rachel's ear. "So much cooler than that time Mr. Schue forced us to learn synchronized swimming so we could propose to Miss Pillsbury for him!"

Rachel laughs. "You _do_ know Mr. Schuester didn't have any adult friends, so of course we had to help him."

"Brooklyn Beatz are pretty cool," Suzie observes. "Although, I know they said, all you need is love, but I think oxygen is more important," she says firmly.

Rachel laughs softly as she leans to give the child a hug. "Thanks, sweetie."

"For what?" Suzie asks.

Rachel just smiles. "You know what."

Suzie smiles enigmatically as she watches the older kids sing.

When the songs are finished, Zee says, "We heard you like Elton John's 'Your Song' and the Beatles, so thought we might sing you a little somethin' somethin'. The Beach Boys and John Denver stuff are all ours."

The two women smile at Zee and the kids.

Zee continues, "Anyway, Congrats, Miz B, Miz L. Blessings, blessings!"

The other kids extend their congratulations to the women. Suzie turns off the video and thanks Zee and the others. The women do the same.

"Aaaww," Gloria says now. "Those songs bring back so many memories. I lost my virginity to John Denver's 'Annie's Song'."

Rachel and Santana simultaneously make a face and look at each other.

Gloria continues, oblivious. "Good times, good times."

"Wow, you weren't kidding about Gloria," Santana mutters now in Rachel's ear. "And…I don't think I'll ever listen to John Denver's song the same way again…"

Rachel looks at her as if to say, "See what I mean?" whilst nodding vigorously.

The other kids and Gloria and Mr. Smith murmur their congrats to the two women, then Zee claps his hands together and announces, "Awright, let's get this party started! We got a finals to win!"

* * *

Rachel, Gloria, Mr. Smith and the Beatz would have arrived at the contest venue much earlier, except Mr. Smith's van dies and refuses to start.

Mr. Smith calmly tells them not to panic, and tells the kids to push the van. "There's something wrong with the clutch. I can't go from first to second gear, but if you push the van, I can probably pop the clutch, quickly accelerate and go from first to third gear."

"I don't know what that means, but that sounds like a bad idea," Rachel comments as the kids do as they are told.

They get as far down the street as they can, whilst pushing the van as fast as they can and when Mr. Smith gets the van running, Rachel, Santana, Suzie and Gloria watch as the kids run after the van and try to get in one by one, each kid trying to pull in the one running after the van, Mr. Smith screaming, "I'm sorry! I can't stop the van, you gotta run faster! Hurry! I can't slow the Enterprise down..!"

Some of the kids succeed in jumping into the van before it careens down the street, with the kids leaning out of the window and door waving at Rachel and the others, but Zee, McG, Jamal, Kareem and Anferny are left behind staring at the speeding van. They walk back to where the others are standing and smile, sheepishly at Rachel and Gloria.

"Lost our ride," Zee says.

"'We few, we happy few, we band of brothers'," McG quotes from Shakespeare.

"Well you guys can ride with me," Gloria says now, automatically.

"And the others can ride with us," Santana offers.

The kids, Rachel, Suzie and Gloria stop and turn now to look at Santana. Santana shrugs.

"You sure?" Rachel asks, uncertainly. "Don't you have work?"

Santana shrugs again. "It's fine. I've still got some leaves I can use. I could use the break," Santana shrugs. "Plus, wouldn't miss this for the world. Feels like Nationals." She smiles at Rachel.

"Anyway, _Miz B_ will drive," Santana jokes now, as she turns to the kids and Gloria.

"Oh god, no!"

"We're doomed!"

"I can't wait to get there!"

"We probably _can_, actually!"

"Yeah, 'cause Miz B driving at ten miles per hour is _sweet_!"

"Yeah, we'll get there next year, but we'll get there safely!"

"Yeah, I've missed Miz B's _sick_ driving skills!"

The kids all laugh heartily as Rachel blushes.

"Just kidding," Santana says now. "_I'm_ driving. Or we'll never get there on time!"

"I hate _all_ of you," Rachel says, a subtle pout on her lips as she puts her arms in front of her and raises her head in mock annoyance.

"Peace, Miz B!" the kids say in conciliatory tones.

"Yeah, peace Miz B, don't be hatin'!" Santana jokes, putting on her best ghetto voice. "I think we should get moving."

"Okay," Rachel says, rolling her eyes, "Let me go get our stuff and lock up."

Rachel goes back into the apartment as Santana nods, pulling out her car keys and heading to her car, whilst pulling out her mobile phone, and calling her law office quickly, informing them she wasn't coming in for the day.

In a few minutes they are speeding down the street, on their way to the Finals competition.

* * *

The ride to the competition is quick, but it seems longer because Santana and the others, namely Zee, Kareem, McG and Suzie, squeezed into the back of the car, have a hearty discussion as well as a hip-hop, R and B concert in the car that amuses and entertains Rachel, with conversations thus,

"Captain's blog - "

"Log, stupid!"

"Captain's log, stardate, rounded off to the nearest decimal point…we are travelling at light speed…and we have entered planet Brooklyn, in record time. There seems to be no sign of life, no intelligent carbon-based life form…"

"Inside or outside the van - "

"The Enterprise!"

"That's Mr. S's van!"

"Alright, alright, the Nostromo!"

"The Nautilus!"

"_Or the Prometheus!"_

"Oooh, Miz L, that's awesome! From now on, your car shall be Prometheus!"

"I think you just got your movies mixed up."

"That's fine! Anyway, the atmosphere seems breathable - "

"If you can call smog breathable!"

"Stop interrupting my log, you jerk!"

"Stop being a geek!"

"Get off of me! I can smell what you had for dinner!"

"I can _see_ what you had for dinner! It's still wedged between your teeth! You had spinach or something?"

"Broccoli! How dare you!"

"_Get off of him, Kareem, or I'll make you get off of him."_

"Sorry, Miz B!"

"_You guys are giving me a headache."_

"Miz L, your car drives like a dream!"

"_Thanks."_

"Got a question for all of ya! How many black people can you fit into a Honda?"

"Does Miz B count? 'Cause last time I checked she ain't."

"_Are they always like this?"_

"_Yes, San. Always. Let me say that again. Always."_

"Hey, got a question for you. Which villain is worthy of the title 'Dark Lord'? Darth Vader? Voldermort? Or Sauron?"

"Darth Vader! That mask? That cape? He's awesome!"

"Don't forget that kickass music that follows him around whenever he walks into any room!"

"Voldemort!"

"Not so Dark Lord if Harry Potter keeps foiling his plan!"

"Take that back!"

"Dude, seriously, can you really take a guy whose name is _Voldemort _seriously? It sounds like wart or something!"

"Sauron, man! Hands down! He's the _original_ Dark Lord!"

"I'm sorry, but the correct answer is… 'The Borg'."

"Dude, how can The Borg be darker than all the three dark lords combined?"

"Dude, you can't kill 'em, they adapt, they absorb, and they are like, legion, because they are many…"

"Whatever. What do you think, Miz L? Who's worthy of that title?"

"_Sauron, of course!"_

"Nice."

The discussions are punctuated with a sing-along to Jay-z's "Empire State of Mind (New York)", BOB's "Nothing On You", The Fugees' "Killing Me Softly" and Ceelo Green's "Forget You". Santana holds her own with the boys, rapping and singing with them, and at the end of the drive, the boys look at Santana with even more respect and admiration. In fact, Zee, whilst looking at Santana, says in an awed whisper to Rachel, "Miz B, Miz L is a goddess."

Rachel smiles. "I know."

* * *

The kids have been registered by Mr. Smith and the kids head to the backstage, with Rachel, Mr. Smith and Gloria there to encourage them. Santana and Suzie have taken seats in the audience, saving one for Rachel and the others when they come. The kids look around at the other groups warming up, doing vocal exercises, stretching, bending over, doing jumping jacks and so forth. It doesn't help that, due to the publicity the Brooklyn Beatz has gathered with their website and the press coverage of their protests, the press are in full force, setting up cameras and microphones at the back and the side of the auditorium, waiting for the Beatz to come on.

Rachel can see that the kids are beginning to freak out, especially when a few of them spot the media in the audience, so she calls the others in a huddle, and tells them, "Hey, hey, focus now, focus."

"Yeah!" Zee says. "Just imagine everyone in the audience naked or something!"

There is a silence as everyone looks at Zee.

"Just confusing the tension!"

"_Diffusing_, Zee! _Diffusing_ the tension!" McG says, rolling his eyes.

"_Anyway_," Rachel says now, "You've come this far. You're not going to be bullied by your own fears and insecurities are you? Just concentrate on your set and on putting on a good show. You can do this. You've always been able to do this."

The kids, though nervous, nod and try to do so.

The kids watch as other groups start to sing their sets before them.

* * *

Rachel joins Santana and Suzie in the audience, as the contest begins. Santana smiles as Rachel sits beside her, Suzie sitting on Santana's right. Santana takes Rachel's hand in hers, twines her fingers between hers. The Convention Center is large, cavernous, filled with people from all walks of life waiting for the Grand Finals to begin. There is an emcee right now in front, speaking, but nobody seems to be paying him attention. There is a musty, moldy, old smell to the auditorium, and the leather seats have seen better days, but the three take their seats as a buzz, a hum of anticipation, excitement, curiosity, overall goodwill spread throughout the audience. Thanks to the Beatz, Rachel suspects half if not most of the audience had probably come to see them, as the website and the media coverage had managed to increase exposure for the Beatz, Taft and the competition.

"How are your kids?" Santana asks now, as her thumb rubs the back of Rachel's hand.

"Nervous. Freaking out, but overall okay."

"Do you know what they're going to sing?"

"They won't say. We'll just have to wait."

* * *

Rachel and Santana watch as Vocal Adrenaline, Dalton, Aural Intensity and New Directions perform their set lists. Suzie is on Santana's right hand, and Rachel is on Santana's left so that Santana is sandwiched in the middle.

Rachel notes with a smile and an eye roll, that New Directions has chosen to perform the Taylor Swift song, "We are Never Getting Back Together", The Foreigner song, "I Want To Know What Love is" and Chicago's "Hard to Say I'm Sorry". She does not know if it is only because she has spent too much time at Brooklyn and in New York in general, but she notes that at least two thirds of the kids seem white, and more male than when Rachel and Santana were in high school. They dance and shuffle and move around the stage with hands and feet flailing around loosely and whilst Rachel can admit that there is a marked improvement, but New Directions still does not seem like, in the Brooklyn Beatz's kids words, "they're all that." The audience though seems okay with their set list and give them the perfunctory claps.

Santana says it for both of them by saying, "That set list is _so_ New Directions."

Rachel nods her head vigorously in agreement.

As they watch New Directions perform, Santana says, "Then again, this is more tolerable than that time they did Gangnam Style. Which was probably the lowest, even for New Directions. _That_ was just freaking embarrassing! On so many levels!"

As they watch the New Directions leave the stage single file, Santana asks, "Have you spotted them yet?"

"Who?" Rachel asks.

"Finn and Mr. Schue."

Rachel shakes her head. "No. I didn't recognize the teacher they're with now. Must be a new teacher. Looks young."

After New Directions, the emcee announces the next group, the Dalton Warblers, and a group of boys, which, again Rachel can swear, is about two thirds white, come on in their trademark dark blue suits. Santana automatically leans over to try to talk to Suzie, and perhaps cover her eyes and ears with her hands when Dalton starts their set list with The Police's "Roxanne", but Suzie already has her earphones on, watching and listening "Finding Nemo" on their iPad, clearly not interested in any of the groups but the Beatz, so Santana leans back relieved, turns to Rachel and nods. Suzie clearly is just waiting for the Beatz to come on.

Dalton performs The Police's "Roxanne", Color Me Badd's "I Wanna Sex You Up" and the latest, most inappropriate Katy Perry song available, singing and gyrating and being as sexually suggestive as possible on the stage.

Rachel and Santana look at each other, horrified.

"Because of course those boys would find nothing wrong with singing songs with explicit lyrics in front of a general audience," Santana comments now, rolling her eyes.

The audience politely clap when the Dalton Warblers finish their Katy Perry song. When the emcee now announces that the next group performing is Vocal Adrenaline, Santana mutters to Rachel, "Oh my god, this is like some kind of twisted Ohio high school reunion or something! Feels like high school or something!"

"I'd rather die than admit this but Ohio does have some good high school choirs," Rachel says.

"That's because there's literally nothing else to do there but sing or hook up, hopefully not at the same time," Santana jokes.

Rachel laughs.

Vocal Adrenaline, always the better performer amongst the other groups from Ohio, and more noticeably diverse and prepared, opens with "50 Ways to Leave Your Lover" then follows it up with Queen's "Radio Gaga" and Lady Gaga's "Judas", dance movements and singing precise and harmonious and altogether intimidating, even though Santana has commented, more than once, about the inappropriateness of their set list for a Grand Finals choir competition.

"Don't these groups have any sense of propriety?" Santana asks now.

"Honey, these are kids," Rachel points out, "I'm pretty sure you sang a fair number of inappropriate songs in high school."

"Don't these kids have their very own pint-sized Jewish Glee Club adviser with an extremely unhealthy obsession with Barbara Streisand and Broadway show tunes to lead them to the promised land?" Santana jokes, as she looks at Rachel with a grin, tucking a stray strand of hair behind Rachel's ear.

Rachel makes to laugh, then realizes Santana is teasing her, and so she gives Santana a pout and playfully hits her on the arm.

"Ow," Santana says.

They clap with the rest of the audience when Vocal Adrenaline finishes their set.

The emcee now announces the next group. Both Rachel and Santana do not hear the name, but when they come on to the stage in, covered from head to toe in simple, plain, white garb, clutching guitars and little banjos and taking equidistant seats from each other, they both realize the young men and women must be a group of teenage Mennonites. They have a simple, unadorned, stripped down set list that only highlight their vocal skills. There is no dancing or flailing hands or gyrating as they sing Louis Armstrong's "What A Wonderful World", "You'll Never Walk Alone" and "Somewhere Over the Rainbow".

"Wow, that group was actually quite good," Santana whispers now. "I bet if Dalton sings those same songs, there's going to inevitably be some double entendre somewhere in 'You'll Never Walk Alone.' So I'm glad they didn't."

Rachel laughs. "You are so adorable now," Rachel whispers back.

Another group of high school students, "KidRock", come on and the two settle back as they watch and listen to the youngsters sing The Ramones' "I Wanna Be Sedated", Steppenwolf's "Born to the Wild" and "Wild Thing". Like the Mennonites that came before them, they do little dancing, and chose to concentrate on the singing instead, limiting their movements to swaying from side to side. They are dressed like grunge fans from the 90s, all flannel and ripped jeans and Converse sneakers as they sing the songs to the audience.

"Wow! Those songs are pretty good!" Santana says as she claps with the rest of the audience.

Presently they see Gloria making her way to them.

"Hey, Gloria, what's up? Everything okay?" Rachel says now, as she sees the older woman come up to them. She leans over as Gloria squats before her.

"Yeah, everything is okay, except…I don't think I can do this!" Gloria whispers feverishly now.

"What?" Rachel asks.

"I'm so nervous," Gloria whispers. "Haven't been this nervous since that time I thought I might have contracted crabs or something from the girls' restroom at Taft!"

Rachel and Santana make a face.

"Uh," Rachel says now, wracking her brain for something to say. "You know I can't take over, I'm no longer faculty at Taft. Contest rules say the adviser must be a member of the faculty or you get disqualified."

"I know, I know," Gloria whispers back. "Just wondering what I can do to get out of this one."

"Gloria," Rachel says now, firmly and evenly, "You can do this. We didn't get this far so you can chicken out now. Now get out there and get us our trophy!"

"But…!"

"_Now_, Gloria!" Rachel hisses now.

"Alright, alright!" Gloria whispers. "So bossy! I guess now we know who's the boss in your family!"

Rachel blushes. Gloria moves off to the back stage.

Then the last group that comes on before the Beatz is another group of teenaged kids, named "The Greggs", singing songs Gregorian Chant style. They are wearing dark, hooded cloaks that cover them from head to toe, and they barely move as they intone the lyrics to U2's "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For", Metallica's "Nothing Else Matters" and Josh Groban's "You Raise Me Up".

"Wow, they were also pretty decent," Santana comments as she politely claps after the group finishes. "I don't know if the goosebumps on my arms are from the singing or from the general creepiness of their singing."

Rachel laughs as they clap, nudging Santana's left shoulder with her own right shoulder.

As they watch the choirs performing, she slowly feels it, the tension, the nervousness, the pressure to perform.

She does not exactly know what the Beatz will perform but the kids and Rachel have worked long enough for them to know what kind of songs would be perfect for a competition and certainly for a first place win during the Grand Finals.

She does not realize it until Santana whispers, "Baby, let go of my hand before you break it. If you break it, I won't be able to make you happy next time you wake me up in the middle of the night for some midnight delight."

Rachel does not even realize Santana is joking, but she does realize that she is gripping Santana's left hand like her life depended on it, so she lets go and Santana pulls away her hand, rubbing her hand with her other hand. When Rachel does realize it though, she grabs Santana's hand and says, "Sorry, honey. Just nervous, that's all."

"I know. It's fine, baby," Santana says, smiling.

As they wait for the kids to come on, Rachel leans over and whispers to Santana, "And also? Just 'cause you can't use your hand doesn't mean you've also lost the facility of your _other_ hand, or your tongue."

Santana looks at her, surprised, then a grin slowly spreads on her face. She leans over, nuzzles Rachel's ear and whispers, hot breath in her ear, sending shivers down her spine, "And I'll show you later just how good I am with all those appendages later."

Rachel blushes.

"You are _so_ hot right now," Santana whispers to her.

Presently, the emcee calls on Brooklyn Beatz. Rachel can see that the media people have perked up. She feels all nervous again.

Suzie, upon hearing the Brooklyn Beatz's name being called, takes off her earphones, shuts off the iPad, leans over now, stares at them both and whispers, "Mom! You're missing the show! What are you doing?"

Santana grins at Suzie now, mumbles an apology to Suzie and leans back, but gives Rachel's hand a squeeze.

"I'll see you later tonight, in the bedroom," Santana whispers half-jokingly.

"Oh, it is _on_!" Rachel whispers, gamely, smiling. "Don't forget to bring your A-game. And the scented candles."

"Wear that lingerie I really, _really_ like," Santana whispers, grinning.

Rachel smiles. "Or we can skip the wearing of undergarments altogether…"

Santana laughs and coughs at the same time. She looks at Rachel and grins. "You are a very, very naughty wife, Mrs. Lopez."

Rachel beams, pretending all innocence. "I learned from the best," she says, without missing a beat.

The kids come out now and take their positions, Gloria following them and taking her position in front the kids. Mr. Smith takes his position by the piano. As they settle into their positions, Santana looks at Rachel.

Santana then leans over now and whispers, "And I can't believe you still call them undergarments!"

Rachel chuckles softly. "It sounds nice. Very old world. And Victorian."

"Oooh, that's a role playing sex game just dying to happen!" Santana quips now, still whispering.

Rachel giggles. "Can I be the sword to your steed?"

Santana makes a face. "I have no idea what you mean…but I hope that isn't as gross as it sounds," she jokes now. "And also…geek!"

Rachel giggles again.

Suzie leans over again and shushes them.

"Oh, you've annoyed mini-me, now," Rachel whispers.

* * *

The kids have prepared a CD, they inform Rachel, but they also want some piano accompaniment as well. Rachel knows, just from how Gloria holds her hands out, that she is not the trained music major that Rachel is, but she closes her eyes briefly and prays that Gloria and the kids still perform well despite this.

Presently, a large image projects itself on the screen, on the back of and above the kids, a picture of face of the late Tupac Shakur, grainy, shaky, as his disemboweled voice speaks the introduction to his song, "Changes", his voice echoing throughout the suddenly still and suddenly cavernous hall.

"_I wanna persevere_

_I wanna keep moving up a level…"_

But then the image changes, morphs into that of Jamal, Kareem, McG, Anferny, Kenyatta, Ruth, saying one line each and Zee who says the last part with the other kids,

"_I wanna be a success_

_To my mom_

_To my family _

_I wanna be financially secure_

_I wanna be able to help a lot of people_

_I wanna be able to change my community_

_And I wanna make my mark on the world…_"

The voices echo, resonate, and it would seem as if the whole audience have stopped breathing, watching and listening to the video. The video shifts, changes, and it fades into Zee, alone on an empty space, and he intones, in his melodic voice, "Sometimes, you know, you just wanna be free…you just wanna get past the darkness, get past the silence, get past the hopelessness…" The image of Zee freezes, stops, turns grainy, then slowly fades to black.

It takes Rachel a while, but she recognizes this line. Zee had written it as part of his essay on "The Sound of Silence". He had put it up also on their "Save the Teachers, Save the Arts" website.

She doesn't know why, but she feels a lump form in her throat, as she watches her kids up on the stage.

On the stage, the girls start singing the chorus of "Big Yellow Taxi", soft and simple and quiet.

"_Don't it always seem to go_

_Don't know what you got 'til it's gone…_

_They paved paradise and _

_put up a parking lot…"_

Then the boys respond by singing the chorus of "Changes" softly, quietly,

"_That's just the way it is _

_Things'll never be the same _

_That's just the way it is _

_Aww yeah…" _

Then the jazzy, hip hop beat of Tupac Shakur's song starts playing, and the images on the back wall come alive with black and white photos of Rosa Parks, Malcolm X, Martin Luther King, Jr., Eldridge Cleaver, Alice Walker, pictures from the Civil Rights Movement, the women's rights movement, the Stonewall Riots, the Million Man March, as Kareem steps forward and microphone in hand, starts rapping the second part of Tupac Shakur's song,

"_I see no changes all I see is racist faces _

_Misplaced hate makes disgrace to races _

_We under I wonder what it takes to make this _

_One better place, let's erase the wasted _

_Take the evil out the people they'll be acting right _

_'cause both black and white is smokin' crack tonight…"_

Then Kareem tosses the microphone to Jamal who starts rapping the next part,

"_And the only time we chill is when we kill each other _

_It takes skill to be real, time to heal each other _

_And although it seems heaven sent _

_We ain't ready, to see a black President, uhh _

_It ain't a secret don't conceal the fact _

_The penitentiary's packed, and it's filled with blacks…"_

Jamal tosses the microphone to Zee who swaggers to the front of the stage and starts rapping the next part,

"_But some things will never change _

_Try to show another way but you stayin' in the dope game _

_Now tell me what's a mother to do _

_Bein' real don't appeal to the brother in you _

_You gotta operate the easy way _

_"I made a G today" But you made it in a sleazy way _

_Sellin' crack to the kid. " I gotta get paid," _

_Well hey, well that's the way it is…" _

Then Jamal and Kareem rejoin the group and start singing,

"_That's just the way it is _

_Things'll never be the same _

_That's just the way it is _

_Aww yeah…" _

Zee stays in front and talks as the group keeps singing,

"_We gotta make a change... _

_It's time for us as a people to start makin' some changes. _

_Let's change the way we eat, let's change the way we live _

_And let's change the way we treat each other. _

_You see the old way wasn't working so it's on us to do _

_What we gotta do, to survive." _

While the girls continue to sing the chorus of "Big Yellow Taxi", voices fading at the last word.

"_Don't it always seem to go_

_Don't know what you got 'til it's gone…_

_They paved paradise and _

_put up a parking lot…"_

Then, Mr. Smith starts playing the first strains of a tune on the piano, and wall at the back of and above the kids' head come alive again with colored and black and white images of the kids at Taft High, studying in the classrooms, in the library, walking in the hallways, playing football on the Taft football grounds, doing cheerleading routines, hanging out on school grounds, in the cafeteria, by the parking lot.

Then the images fade out then slowly fade into pictures of empty hallways, empty fields, empty classrooms, empty libraries, empty gyms and auditoriums, a tree stripped of its leaves, standing against the stark gloominess of an autumn sky, black hands gripping prison bars and chain link fences.

The girls start singing the first lines of Nina Simone's "I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel To Be Free", voices slow, sure, confident, as they sing in perfect harmony as the images are projected on the screen behind them.

"_I wish I knew how_

_It would feel to be free_

_I wish I could break_

_All the chains holding me_

_I wish I could say_

_All the things that I should say_

_Say 'em loud say 'em clear_

_For the whole round world to hear…"_

The video changes as the kids continue to sing, showing pictures of black kids sleeping on the streets, kids holding beer bottles in brown paper bags, kids doing drugs, kids smoking, kids with guns and knives, kids in fights, kids with wounded heads and arms and legs, kids in mug shots, graffiti on walls, pictures of kids in handcuffs being led away by police officers as the lights of police cars flash in the background, walls and pavements streaked with blood.

Then the boys start singing the next part, voices blending perfectly.

"_I wish I could share_

_All the love that's in my heart_

_Remove all the bars_

_That keep us apart_

_I wish you could know_

_What it means to be me_

_Then you'd see and agree_

_That every man should be free_

The video now shows photos of the Beatz in the auditorium, standing up for Rachel, then photos of the kids with placards and the infamous "Blame Straight Parents, They Keep Having Gay Babies" that Zee proudly holds in front of the camera, pictures of McG and the other kids in front of the computer, pictures of the kids being interviewed by reporters, a photo of the newspaper clip that features Brooklyn Beatz and their stand for Rachel and the arts, a random black and white photo of Zee by the rooftop, back to the camera, half of his face obscured by his jacket, dark face pensive and quiet. It takes Rachel a second to realize this is the same rooftop that she and Mr. Smith had rescued Zee from when he had attempted to commit suicide.

"_I wish I could give_

_All I'm longin' to give_

_I wish I could live_

_Like I'm longin' to live_

_I wish I could do_

_All the things that I can do_

_And though I'm way over due_

_I'd be starting a new."_

Then the images change again, as the kids go through the next stanza of the song and this time, it is photos of the Brooklyn Beatz and Rachel, practicing in the basement, in the gym, in the auditorium, there are photos of the Beatz and Rachel in the classroom, by the van, in front of the school, Rachel with her textbooks, Rachel huddled with the Beatz just before a competition, some of the kids praying, Abdul's head bowed in prayer by a window, late afternoon sun shining on his brown skin. There are pictures of the kids just goofing around, pictures of the kids dancing and jamming and singing together, a random picture of McG, fingers forming the Vulcan sign for "Live Long and Prosper", a few pictures of the kids grinning, with arms raised in "V"s as their fingers form peace signs, a picture of Rachel leaning over, smiling, as she hugs a smiling Suzie who is standing in front of her, the child's hands holding Rachel's arms, as the other kids gather around them, arms around each other, faces full of joy and delight.

"_Well I wish I could be _

_Like a bird in the sky_

_How sweet it would be_

_If I found I could fly_

_Oh I'd soar to the sun_

_And look down at the sea_

_Than I'd sing cause I know - yea…_

_How it feels_

_How it feels_

_To be free…"_

Then, their voices fade softly and Mr. Smith starts strumming the guitar, and then the girls slowly start singing the first line of Crowded House's "Don't Dream It's Over".

"_There is freedom within, there is freedom without…"_

Then they skip the first stanza and the girls immediately go to the chorus,

"_Hey now, hey now  
Don't dream it's over  
Hey now, hey now  
When the world comes in  
They come, they come  
To build a wall between us  
We know they won't win…"_

Then the boys start singing the chorus of the David Bowie's "Heroes",

"_We could be heroes just for one day…"_

Then they stop and both the girls start singing the next song by Tracy Chapman, "Talkin' About a Revolution".

"_Don't you know _

_They're talkin' bout a revolution _

_It sounds like a whisper _

_Don't you know _

_They're talkin' about a revolution _

_It sounds like a whisper _

_While they're standing in the welfare lines _

_Crying at the doorsteps of those armies of salvation _

_Wasting time in the unemployment lines _

_Sitting around waiting for a promotion _

The images change with the song, and it looks more hopeful, there are pictures of a sunset by the Taft football grounds, a ray of sunshine by the empty gym, the Beatz looking up at the sky, Zee jumping up into the air, blue sky behind him, a silhouette of the Beatz arms draped on each other's shoulders, standing against the sunset, one long line, against the top of the bleachers on the Taft football grounds, the words "Challenge what you think is possible" fading in and out below the photo.

The boys continue to sing the line from "Heroes",

"_We could be heroes just for one day…"_

The girls continue to sing the next lines of Tracy Chapman's "Talkin' About a Revolution".

"_Poor people gonna rise up  
And get their share  
Poor people gonna rise up  
And take what's theirs_

Don't you know  
You better run, run, run  
Oh I said you better  
Run, run, run

Finally the tables are starting to turn  
Talkin' bout a revolution…"

Then both the boys and girls slowly and softly sing

"_We could be heroes just for one day…"_

They finish the song and it ends softly and the last image on the screen is that of a starfish, by the beach, on the sand, the surf lapping at its edges, the words, "_Music is Life. Music is Freedom_" scrawled beneath the starfish.

As Rachel watches the kids perform, the lump in her throat grows and grows and her eyes well up, again, like that time when all her kids stood up for her in the Taft Auditorium those many weeks ago.

As they sing the songs, it does not escape Rachel's notice that there is an underlying theme in the kids' song selections. In fact, all Rachel can remember is what Zee wrote in his essay on "The Sound of Silence" and Nina Simone's "I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to be Free". He had written "Sometimes, you know, you just wanna be free…you just wanna get past the darkness, get past the silence, get past the hopelessness…" She remembers him writing it on his essay, remembers him including it in the website, "Music is life. Music frees me. Miz B showed me possibilities. Miz B showed me what I can become. Maybe I'll fail. Maybe I'll succeed. Who knows? But Miz B showed me a door I never knew existed. And sometimes that is enough."

Music is life, Zee says.

Music is life.

She looks at the kids now and realizes this is true.

And as she watches the kids take a bow, and a tear slides down her cheek and she reaches up to wipe it away, she realizes her hands are cold and clammy and that her heart is beating so hard against her chest she feels she cannot breathe. And then something, an idea begins to form in her mind, the kernel of an idea that started when she saw the kids "Save the Teachers, Save the Arts" website, when the kids started getting media attention, when the other teachers and students from the other schools started with their own protests, but mostly, when she started reading the posts on the Beatz website and realized just how powerful one person who cared enough to make a difference can be. And it's an idea that grows and grows, takes root, branches out, stays in her mind, an idea that begs to be taken seriously, to be considered, an idea that preoccupies her, visits her, when she is alone at home during the day, or at night, in the middle of the night, as she lies awake in a sleeping Santana's tight embrace. And now, as she watches the Beatz heartbreaking performance, the idea comes again, more strongly this time, unbidden, and she thinks about it as she watches the kids bow to wild, hearty applause.

Santana leans over now and whispers, "You okay, baby?"

Rachel cannot speak and so she is only able to nod, turning her head away to hide her eyes from Santana. Santana removes her hand from Rachel's grip and puts her arm around her wife and does not speak.

"Wow," Santana says now.

"Yeah," Rachel says, leaning closer to Santana.

"I mean, baby, wow!" Santana says again, the pride in her voice unmistakable. "You're good!" she whispers now, awe in her voice. "How come you never coached us when we were in Glee Club?"

Rachel laughs softly. "What, was me being, as you described me, 'bossy' and 'pushy' and 'annoying' not qualify as coaching New Directions?" she asks, grinning.

"Fair point." Santana grins. "Where did they even get some of those photos?"

"That starfish idea was mine," Suzie informs them now, proud look on her face as she leans over to her mothers. "I told Zee about it."

"Good girl," Santana says now, kissing the top of Suzie's head and giving their daughter an affectionate squeeze.

* * *

They take a break for a few minutes as the judges finalize their decisions. Santana goes off to find refreshments for her wife and daughter, whilst Rachel and Suzie make their way to the backstage to see how the kids are doing.

When they get to the backstage, they see Gloria wringing her hands, Mr. Smith all quiet and staring off into space, the kids all chattering and nervous, some of them nervously pacing back and forth like first time parents awaiting the arrival of their firstborn child. When they see Rachel (and Suzie), Rachel can almost hear the collective sigh and relief and the kids descend on Rachel like bees to honey, chattering and jabbering and all talking at the same time.

"Miz B! How did we do?"

"Did we suck? We sucked didn't we? Oh, god, we sucked!"

"I told you including Tupac Shakur would alienate the mostly white judges we have!"

"Shoulda told us that _before_ we selected the songs, you moron!"

"Nobody knew who the judges were going to be, idiot!"

"Either way, we're doomed…doomed I tell ya!"

"Toldja we shoulda gone with Taylor Swift! That white group did!"

"And what was up with those pictures of you doing those stupid Star Trek signs anyway?"

"It was the pictures of Malcolm X and Martin Luther King and the Million March and those graffiti stuff, y'all! I think we were too overtly political!"

"I don't care what you say! We killed those songs! Then we raised them up from the dead and killed them again, dammit!"

"We just made those songs are bitches, bitches!"

"Language, Zee, guys, _please_," Rachel admonishes.

"What do _you_ think, Miz B?"

All the kids turn now to Rachel and Rachel looks at each one of them and says, brimming with pride and delight, "I thought it was awesome! It was wonderful!"

"Miz B likes it! All is restored!"

Rachel laughs.

"You think we got a chance, Miz B?" Zee asks now, anxious and worried. "I mean, I think we probably went over the top with that one, but we figured if we were going to go out, we might as well go out with a bang!"

Rachel smiles. "And go out with a bang you did!"

The kids whoop with joy.

"I particularly liked the addition of the pictures," Rachel says. "I thought they were fantastic."

The kids grin at Rachel. "Awright! Miz B likes! We done good, y'all! We done good!"

"Yes, you did done good," Rachel says, imitating them.

The kids laugh.

Rachel smiles with them, but she stops and all serious, she says, "I just want to say though, win or lose, you're all winners in my book, okay? Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise."

The kids smile and nod.

"Okay, but if we lose, it's open season on the judges' tires!" Jamal announces.

Rachel looks at him and the others and say, "Uh…no."

"Aaaaw, way to ruin our fun, Miz B!"

Gloria comes up to her now, still wringing her hands and Rachel puts her arms around her and nods.

"Did I suck, too?" she asks.

Rachel shakes her head. "No. You were fine."

"I'm no Rachel Berry, but…I did my best," she says. "Argh, for a little person, your shoes are way too big to fill!"

Rachel laughs now.

Gloria leans over now and says, "Still so nervous! This was almost as bad as my wedding night when I was about to do it with my husband and I wasn't sure how to break it to him that he wasn't my first!"

Rachel's smile disappears as she makes a face.

"Sorry, sorry, too much information, I know," Gloria says.

"Really _way_ too much information, Gloria," Rachel says. "But I'm sure you did fine."

When Gloria makes to say something, Rachel quickly says, "During the performance earlier, not during your wedding night."

Presently, Zee disappears and he comes back with a short, black, squat woman in simple clothes. Rachel does not notice him until he taps her on the shoulder and she turns around and sees Zee with the woman.

"Hey, Miz B?" Zee asks uncertainly.

"Yes?" Rachel asks.

"This be my mom, Miz B. She took time off from work to come see me sing," Zee says proudly. "Mom, this be the teacher I be talking about with you. Miz B."

Rachel gives the woman a smile and offers her hand. "It is nice to meet you, Mrs. Parks."

The woman, who is about fortyish or fiftyish, smiles back uncertainly, and, Rachel notes, nervously, as she takes the hand offered to her. "Nice to meet you, too, Miz B."

As they continue to shake hands, the woman says, "I've heard a lot of good things about you, Miz B."

"Whatever Zee told you, Mrs. Parks, I can assure you, they are lies, _all_ lies," Rachel says now, jokingly.

Mrs. Parks smiles and shakes her head. "I haven't seen you teach, Miz B, but I saw how Zee's grades have improved and he be telling me about college? And that's more than I can hope for."

Rachel smiles and nods.

"And I didn't hear about Zee being depressed and wanting to do…" Mrs. Parks swallows, just thinking about what her son almost did on the ledge, "_That_, until after the school called me, but I want to thank you for doing that for my son. Nobody has cared for my kid like that before. Thank you. For being there for my son. Thank you."

Rachel shakes her head, tries to explain that she was just doing her job, but finds she cannot find the words, realizes yet another lump has formed in her throat and her eyes are threatening to get all misty again. So she just swallows and nods her assent.

"And," here Mrs. Parks lowers her voice, "I'm sorry about what happened…but they be stupid to have let you go, but we just wanted you to know, not all the parents at Taft agree with Mrs. Goldman and the others."

Rachel smiles, finds it in herself to say, "Thank you. That means a lot to me."

Santana joins them now, and as she hands the juice to their daughter and a bottle of mineral water for Rachel, Rachel introduces her to Mrs. Parks. Santana smiles and shakes the woman's hand.

* * *

Presently, the emcee announces that the results will be announced momentarily, so Rachel, Santana and Suzie make their way back to their seats.

The emcee has a long monologue about how difficult it was to choose the best choir and how this competition has brought to the fore a lot of talented young men and women but that at the end of the day, the wheat must be separated from the chaff (Rachel and Santana glance at each other and roll their eyes) and the winners must be announced shortly. Shortly does not come soon enough as the emcee acknowledges the sponsors, then talks about the journey it took from auditions to Grand Finals, then he launches into discussing the criteria for judging, which included creativity, appropriateness, relevance to theme and so on.

"Hey, mom," Suzie casually says now, leaning over to her mothers, "If you had more kids with Mee, you can totally start your own Glee Club!"

"Suzie…" Santana and Rachel say, growing uncomfortable. Rachel feels her face warm up and blush.

"I mean, I'd totally be okay with it," Suzie continues. "You could totally stage your own 'Miss Saigon'! Or 'Les Miz'! Or even have your own soccer team!"

The two women are silent, exchanging glances with each other.

"You could totally do it the way Mom and Mommy did it," Suzie informs them. "Mom's egg, Mommy's uterus. Instant little sister! Or little brother! Or you could adopt! I don't mind either way."

Rachel's blush grows deeper as Santana swallows, frets and squirms beside her.

"Mom, if a guy had a uterus, it wouldn't be called a uterus, would it?" Suzie now says. "It would be called a _dudeterus_, wouldn't it? Why don't guys have uteruses?"

Suzie leans back on her own chair as she contemplates this thought and carries on like she has not just made her mothers the most uncomfortable since forever. Santana clears her throat.

"Oh, by the way, before I forget, baby, Mom wants to ask your help with the renewal of her vows," Santana whispers now in Rachel's ear.

When Rachel looks at her, puzzled, Santana rolls her eyes and says, "Yeah, I know right?"

"Okay. Does she have anything special in mind? A theme? Some symbolism or imagery or metaphor that she wants reflected in her vows or something?" Rachel asks.

"Not really," Santana says. "And I was right, you were totally the right person to ask about this!"

It is Rachel's turn to roll her eyes. "Did you already tell them about us?"

Santana shakes her head. "No. Not yet. Waiting for the right time. Also trying to get the nerve to tell them."

Rachel nods and gives Santana's hand an understanding squeeze. "It's okay," she says now. "Honey, I'm so nervous!"

"I know what you mean," Santana says. "This is so nerve wracking!"

Presently, the emcee mercifully ends with his monologue and says, "But anyway, wow, what an amazing competition!" A woman comes up to the stage and hands him envelopes. "Of course all of you are winners…but in the end, only one will go down in history, only one will be declared champion…And the judges have made their decision! So, without further ado, the third prize goes to…"

The emcee dramatically opens the first envelope as ominous music plays in the background. The audience now seems to have collectively held their breath as they all lean over, waiting for the emcee to announce the third prize winner. The emcee is aware that the audience is anticipating his announcement, so he takes his time opening the envelope.

Santana rolls her eyes. "Just…announce it already!"

"It's a tie! Neil Armstrong High's KidRock and Ty-McDuffie High's The Greggs!"

The high school group "KidRock" that sang The Ramones' "I Wanna Be Sedated", Steppenwolf's "Born to the Wild" and "Wild Thing" and "The Greggs", the group of teenaged kids that sang U2's "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For", Metallica's "Nothing Else Matters" and Josh Groban's "You Raise Me Up" in a Gregorian Chant style both simultaneously whoop and yell and jump up and appear on the stage all happy and smiling, completely breaking the discipline they both exhibited during their performance.

The emcee hands the two groups certificates and a couple of bronze trophies for each group with a small G-Clef on it.

"Congratulations!" the emcee says, shaking hands with the leaders of each excited group before watching both groups walk off the stage with their prizes as the audience clap for the groups.

"And now…the second prize goes to…" and here, the emcee again dramatically opens the second envelope, takes his time taking out the piece of paper inside, reads it, tries to hide his surprise, disappointment or confusion, Rachel is not sure, but she catches it on his face anyway and he practically shouts in excitement as he announces, "Brooklyn's William Howard Taft High School's Brooklyn Beatz!"

There is at first, a wild applause as the Beatz whoop and yell and jump up and down as they rush out onto the stage in one fell swoop, grinning and laughing and disbelief and excitement on their faces. Gloria follows after them, in shock herself.

Rachel, Santana and Suzie clap along with the others, happy and excited about their win, but then, Santana says, "That is such _bullshit_! Brooklyn Beatz was the best among those choirs and everyone knows it!"

"Honey," Rachel says, indicating Suzie.

"Sorry," Santana mumbles.

"Well, that was just crap!" Suzie says now, disappointed, clapping with them as well.

"Suzie," Rachel chides her now.

"Sorry, Mee," Suzie says.

The other audience members seem to think so and the women hear the others expressing incredulity and displeasure at the announcement. The people express their dissatisfaction with shouts of disbelief and frustration, jumping up and shouting complaints and curses at the emcee. Santana moves to cover Suzie's ears, as Rachel looks to see the loudest dissenter and sees that it is Mrs. Parks, Zee's mom. She looks to the people standing near Zee's mother's left and right side, and she seems to recognize a few faces, some teachers, a few students, in fact, they look like her students from her literature classes at Taft, and, Rachel is not quite sure, but a few parents, the ones who were not as opposed as the others were to her teaching and advising the Beatz during that ill-fated meeting with the parents when she had been called to explain Glee Club and the literature classes. The parents look upset, hissing and booing as the Brooklyn Beatz accept the slightly larger G-Clef trophy and certificates for the kids.

The emcee tries to speak but there is an onslaught of noise coming from the distraught audience who thought the Beatz should have won. The media people are having a field day taking photos and videos of the displeased audience and the Beatz accepting their prize on the stage. The kids though try their best to ignore the noise, take a bow and exit the stage.

The emcee's announcement that the Grand Prize goes to the teenage Mennonites who sang Louis Armstrong's "What A Wonderful World", "You'll Never Walk Alone" and "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" is drowned out by the disgruntled audience members who shout and heckle and protest the win.

It could not, however, assuage the fact that the Beatz lost the Grand Finals.

The teenaged Mennonites manage to make their way to the stage without much event, but the annoyance of the audience for the Beatz having placed second makes their win anti-climactic.

Rachel sighs and feels a wave of disappointment wash over her.

The Beatz had lost.

All is not well.

* * *

**_Author's end notes:_**

**_That's it for this chapter!_**

**_Many thanks for reading and for your kind reviews!_**

**_Apologies for the references in this chapter, the last Glee ep (4.9) upset me to no end, but I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I almost didn't want to continue with this fic anymore, I was so upset and offended by the ep (I think it was the last straw that really, unequivocally offended me in a lot of offensive straws against LGBTQI, minorities, etc.), but my beta talked me out of it, so DragonsWillFly, thank you very much, for talking me out of stopping writing fan fic and also for going over this chapter and its many drafts (and believe me, there are many drafts to each chapter!) - it's an unenviable task, but you do it with such enthusiasm and professionalism and kindness! Thank you! I think I will be boycotting Glee from now on._**

**_Anyway, enough with the ranting. Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! This is for everyone who wondered about a few things about the characters and their interactions with each other and everything else. :)_**

**_Next chapter might be…the aftermath of the Beatz losing Grand Finals._**

**_Now, on to your comments -_**

**_To kickangel - Wow, thank you for your very thoughtful, kind review, and for powering through the 10 chapters of "In the Loop", the five chapters of "The Space Between" and the 27 chapters of "The Learning Curve". It is much appreciated and I enjoyed reading your review, especially since the last Glee ep (4.9) upset me to no end. Your review gave me the lift I needed after that Glee crapfest. Anyway, suffice it to say, your response to the story/ies is why this whole story was written in the first place. I have a soft spot for Brittana and got into reading fan fic because of it but a chance reading of a Pezberry fan fic just won me over and made me an even bigger fan of it than the others. I find Pezberry compelling and quite fun and perfect for the stories I want to write. And yes, I wanted to address the issues here that Glee always had difficulty tackling without offending anyone, so I'm glad you enjoyed it as well. Anyway, hope you enjoyed reading this chapter! I update fairly regularly so I don't think you need to worry about waiting too. :) Again, many thanks. ;)_**

**_To NotThatGrrl - Thanks for reading and reviewing! Hope you enjoyed this chapter._**

**_To MelovePezberry - Thanks for reading and reviewing. And let me just say, congrats on the love life! Glad you loved Chantal Kreviazuk as a Rachel and Santana wedding song and the kids as well. As for Mrs. Lopez - as always, have got to stick around to find out! You don't need to wait long though. Hope you enjoyed this!_**

**_To kutee - The "guess the song" game - glad you love it! I love it, too. As for the Beatz, glad you loved what the kids did. Anyway, thanks for reading and reviewing! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!_**

**_To aviran - Thanks for reading and reviewing. :) Glad you liked "Feels like Home"._**

**_To amazinglife18 - Thanks for saying the Beatz are awesome. Yes, I like that Rachel and Kate do make the badasses Santana and Suzie go all soft, too! ;) As for the morning scene between Santana and Rachel, yes, it's always fun to write intimate scenes with them. Glad you're happy Rachel and Santana got married. Also, as for the friends and family reactions, have got to stick around to find out! ;) Anyway, thanks for reading and reviewing! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!_**

**_To parker88 - Hi! Thanks for reading and reviewing! Glad the wedding and adorable Suzie and Kate scenes made you happy. As for Suzie dropping little hints at wanting a sibling is brilliant isn't it? Hope you enjoyed this chapter._**

**_To ichigo111981 - Thanks for reading and reviewing! Glad the Santana and Rachel wedding and Suzie and Kate scene and the mall jam session made you happy! Yes, Rachel is an awesome picture, so of course it would stand to reason her kids would fight for her. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter!_**

**_To SoFlaComet - Thanks for reading and reviewing! Glad you loved the wedding and the Beatz not giving up. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!_**

**_Songs featured for this chapter:_**

**_"Your Song" by Ewan McGregor (Moulin Rouge soundtrack)_**

**_"God Only Knows" by The Beach Boys_**

**_"All You Need is Love" by The Beatles_**

**_"Annie's Song" by John Denver_**

**_"I Wish I Knew How It is To Be Free" by Nina Simone (because Nina Simone and this song are awesome! Get thee to youtube and check it out!)_**

**_"Talkin' About a Revolution" by Tracy Chapman_**

**_"Changes" by Tupac Shakur_**

**_"Big Yellow Taxi" by Joni Mitchell (version by Counting Crows feat. Vanessa Miles)_**

**_"Don't Dream It's Over" by Crowded House (Sixpence None the Richer version)_**

**_"Heroes" by David Bowie_**

**_Also, feel free to check out the set list from the other groups (just so you can get into the zone while reading this chapter)._**

**_New Directions - "We are Never Getting Back Together" by Taylor Swift, "I Want To Know What Love is" by Foreigner and "Hard to Say I'm Sorry" by Chicago_**

**_Dalton Warblers - "Roxanne" by The Police, "I Wanna Sex You Up" by Color Me Badd and the latest, most inappropriate Katy Perry song available :)_**

**_Vocal Adrenaline - "50 Ways to Leave Your Lover", "Radio Gaga" by Queen and "Judas" by Lady Gaga_**

**_The Mennonites - "What A Wonderful World" by Louis Armstrong, "You'll Never Walk Alone" and "Somewhere Over the Rainbow"_**

**_KidRock - "I Wanna Be Sedated" by Ramones, "Born to the Wild" by Steppenwolf and "Wild Thing" (because The Ramones is awesome and I love any band that references Steppenwolf and Herman Hesse in their name :)_**

**_The Greggs - "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" by U2, "Nothing Else Matters" by Metallica and "You Raise Me Up by Josh Groban (check out the Gregorian Chant group that actually does covers of U2 and other rock groups. They're pretty awesome! And sometimes creepy. :))_**


	28. Spring Awakening

_**Dear readers: Chapter 28 is up! Happy reading! **_

* * *

Rachel, Santana and Suzie meet the Beatz at the parking lot at the back of the Convention Center, where Santana, and Gloria have parked their cars and where Mr. Smith has parked his van. He had said the place is perfect since there is a wide space for the kids to push the van from while he gets it kick started.

As the women and Suzie make their way across the wide parking lot, where the kids are sitting inside the van, or leaning by the van, or standing around, just chatting, waiting for Rachel and the others, Rachel feels bad. Really bad. She knows placing second is more than they can hope for, but she feels like her kids were cheated out of a well-deserved win. She had seen how much the group had improved, as a team, as singers, as kids turning out into the kind of young people she is proud to have known and taught, and she feels they are worthy enough of that award. Santana is quiet, Suzie skipping along before she decides to make a run for it, and as the kids spot her and the women, they grin, nod and wave and continue chatting and laughing with each other. She thinks of a suitable stirring speech that would inspire the bunch, but she is surprised when they see her and grin and wave.

Gloria sees them as well and comes up to greet them.

"Hey, you guys," Gloria says, with a smile.

"Hey. How are you guys?" Rachel asks.

"Great! They're deciding how to split the cash, and how to spend it," Gloria says.

"How are they holding up? Are they disappointed at not placing first?" Rachel asks.

Gloria shrugs. "I don't know. You have to ask them. They seem okay with it though. I'm a bit disappointed they didn't place first, personally. I mean, that second place win hurt as much as that one time I had my bikini wax. I mean they worked so hard on that."

Rachel and Santana grimace.

"On the set list, not on my bikini wax," Gloria quickly supplies. "'Cause that's just inappropriate. Although, yeah, that took forever. I felt seven pounds lighter after that bikini wax."

"Gloria…" Rachel chides her, with a smile.

"What?" Gloria asks, defensively. "Newly defoliated bikini zones are _not_ a joke. I've since just let it grow wild and free. It's a jungle down there. Like the Amazon…"

Rachel and Santana simultaneously make a face as Gloria says, "And since I don't think they're going anywhere just yet, I'm going to go get some water. Mr. S has gone off to buy some pizza and soda for the kids."

"Okay," Rachel says.

"I may possibly have been scarred for life by that little information," Santana says, leaning over to her wife as she says so. "I don't think I can look at jungles without remembering Gloria's own lady jungle."

Rachel nods her assent vigorously.

The kids greet both women as they approach.

"Hi Miz B! Hi Miz L!"

"You're just in time, Miz B, the geeks are discussing zombies and vampires."

"So if a zombie bites a vampire, and the vampire bites a human, what happens to the human? Does he become a zombie? Or a vampire? Or a vambie? Or a zombire?!"

"Miz B! We won second place, woohoo! Check out our brand spanking new trophy, woohoo!"

"The cash is awesome, too!"

"Yeah, McG be teaching us how to invest some of it. Probably on the 'net. He said he be investing money on the 'net and he _tripled_ it."

"You mean like, at first there was money, then there was money, money, _money_?"

"Heck, yeah!"

"There might be some use for you after all…aside from your never-ending Star Trek and Star Wars lectures."

"I think I know just the guy who would gladly sit through your lectures," Santana says, smiling.

"Congrats, you guys," Rachel says with a smile.

"Yeah, we hope you're not mad we only placed second Miz B," Zee says.

"Mad? I'm so proud of you guys!" Rachel says now, grinning.

"For real?" Zee says. " 'Cause if you _are_ mad, we just sorry we let you down."

"Yeah, please don't feel bad. Or sad, Miz B."

"But if you _do_ feel bad, and feel like letting off some steam, Zee is volunteering himself as a human punching bag. You can punch him on the face, if you want!"

"Hey!"

"What?! After all that Miz B's done for you, this is your chance to give back!"

"Yeah! Take one for the team, Zee!"

"I don't know about you guys, but still think we shoulda slashed some tires! I'm a sore loser, okay?"

"Thank you! Glad I'm not the only one who thinks that! It's a freaking slap on the vadge, it is!"

"That's got to hurt!"

"Kenyatta, language, _please_," Rachel pleads to her.

"Sorry, Miz B."

"Actually, Miz B, we didn't think we'd win actually! We didn't even think we'd make this far!"

"O, yea, of little faith!"

"Never won anything before."

"Hey, those other groups were kinda good! That group from Ohio? Nude Erections? They were kinda cool!"

"You would! You find _lint_ compelling!"

"Zee, language, I beg of you, we're trying to raise a well-rounded minor here," Rachel says. "And it's New Directions, not…what you just said."

"Sorry, Miz B," Zee says apologetically. "So that's why that name sounded weird in my head! Anyway, it's not the destination that counts, it's the journey that matters," Zee says, looking around. "Miz B taught us that."

"And also, just 'cause they won, don't mean they be better than we are!"

"Like, just 'cause it's popular don't mean it's automatically good!"

"Yeah, like sequels!"

"Or Apocalypse movies! Like 2012! Armageddon! The Day After Tomorrow!"

"Yeah, those movies were _dumb_."

"Most American movies after 2000 are dumb!"

"Twilight!"

"50 Shades of Grey!"

"Take that back!"

"Ow! You hit me!"

"Or a Michael Bay movie!"

"Like most of the shows on Fox!"

"Hey, they have some good shows!"

"Name me one!"

"Err…Fringe!"

"Raising Hope!"

There is a long silence.

"The bottomline, Miz B? Everything happens for a reason," Zee says now. "We just need to keep the faith, you know? And everything will be revealed in due time."

"Anyway,"Kareem says. "If they have the same contest next year, then we still got next year! We can practice again."

"Heck yeah! Mrs. G can help coach!"

"Mr. S can drive!"

"But something must be done about that van!"

"How do you feel about setting fire to it? All we need is a match and a can of gasoline!"

"Time to retire the Enterprise!"

"Or bury it!"

"Or at the very least, crash it against a pole or run it into the Hudson or something, make it look like an accident, so we can get the insurance!"

"It's _insured_? Why?"

"Bet ya if we leave it in the Bronx, _no one will steal it_!"

Presently, Gloria joins them, mineral bottle in hand, and she leans on the van, listening to the kids talk to Rachel.

"Anyway," Zee says now, "We'd ask you to coach for us again, Miz B, but maybe you be wanting to have a baby or something now…"

"What?" Rachel asks, incredulously. "No. _No_."

But her voice is drowned out by the other kids suddenly perking up, getting all excited.

"Oooh, a baby Miz B!"

"I'd love to see that!"

"Miz B, you want a son or a daughter?"

"Do you already have a name, Miz B?"

"Might I suggest, Miz B, the powerful, strong African name, _Na-ka-lu-lu-nu_ - " Kareem clicks his tongue "_A-a_. Or, _Katinka_," Kareem clicks his tongue again, "_Na-na_."

"Or you can name your child Purple!"

"Or Katniss!"

"Or Mufasa!"

"Or Bella!"

"Bella Berry?! Mufasa Berry? What the heck are those kinds of names?! How sure are you that Miz B even wants a baby?! Or even an African one?"

"I think it would be cool to add a little mocha or dark chocolate to the family latté…ow! What the heck was that for?"

"You're bein' disrespectful y'all! That's so inappropriate! And Suzie! I'd go with the name Black! Or Straw! So your child would be, like, Black Berry! Or Straw Berry!"

"Naw, Blue! So the child is Blue Berry!"

"Awesome, if you decide to have more kids, you could have your kids color-coded, Miz B!"

"Oh, she could be Baby B! 'Cause you know, Miz B!"

"If it's a girl, you could totally have your own girl band! Like the Von Trapp family or something! You could be Miz B, Miz Lo, Baby B or Baby Blue, whichever you prefer, and Shrub!"

"Or you could have your own superhero team! You could be like the gay Fantastic Four! Miz B could be, like, Super B! And Miz L could be Wonder B! And Suzie could be Tiny Dancer! Then you have Baby Blue!"

"And what, pray tell, will be their superpowers?!"

"Hee, Miz B's aggressive singing and those funny faces she makes explode bad guys into mush, Miz L has those scary laser eye death glares that emasculate bad guys, Suzie saves the world by dancing and Baby Blue blues everyone to death!"

"My superpower is _emasculating_ bad guys?" Santana asks, a quizzical look on her face.

"Well, yeah. Because you and Miz B are awesome in every timeline, Miz L!"

"Maybe he means _eviscerate_ bad guys. But emasculate works, too!"

"Anyway, Baby Blue'd be vocalizing in the womb!"

"She'd probably be born with post-its and colored markers and a clipboard, _criticizing_ how the doctor delivered her!"

"Yeah, the baby would be like, 'You delivered me all wrong!'"

"Yeah, but the baby's gonna be born in style!"

"Awww, that baby's gonna look so F-I-N-E _fine_, Miz B! _Mighty_ fine!"

"There should totally be some kind of song playing when you give birth, Miz B!"

"'Circle of Life'! Lion King! And the doctor should totally hold the baby up as the music is playing!"

"Ooooh, imagining Miz B giving birth!"

"Please don't," Rachel says, her face the deepest red it has ever been. She glances desperately at Santana and finds that Santana is both horrified, speechless, face flushed a deep red, but also highly amused by what the kids are talking about.

Meanwhile, Gloria throws back her head and laughs as Suzie gives her mothers a surreptitious look out of the corner of her eye and a small smile.

"The funny faces Miz B will make!"

"The screaming she will make!"

"She would probably raise screaming into an art form!"

"It's gonna be _epic_!"

"Bet you would make a good mom, Miz B!"

"What you talking about? She already is a great mom! Suzie is awesome!"

"Aaaw, Miz B wanting to have a baby be making me all warm and fuzzy inside. Kinda takes the sting out of placing second…"

"You sure that warm and fuzzy feeling ain't syphilis?"

"Shut up."

"Bet ya Miz B gonna be fierce!"

"I don't think it's a good idea to coach while pregnant though. I mean coaching you morons would probably make Miz B go into amateur labor!"

"_Immature_ labor! Immature!"

"Yeah, 'cause there's totally a professional labor, or a mature one."

"_Premature_ labor, man. Premature!"

Gloria leans over now and whispers to Rachel, "Can I just say, this conversation is making me feel better? This is so much better than that time I found a direct correlation between spanking and orgasms!"

Rachel looks at her and says, horror on her face, "Yikes."

"That's what I said, the first time," Gloria says. Then louder, Gloria says, "If you do decide to get pregnant, good luck! Morning sickness and cravings weren't stuff I particularly missed." In a conversational tone, she leans over so the two women, who are visibly mortified not just by the kids' conversations about them, but also by what she may add, grimace now as Gloria continues to talk. Gloria does not disappoint. "I used to crave cigarette ash, paint and soil when I was pregnant. I repeatedly wanted a side dish of soil whenever I ate my plate of KFC fried chicken. My husband used to pull me away from the wall and tie me up because he always caught me trying to lick the paint off."

Rachel and Santana stare at her, faces horrified, looking uncomfortable.

When she catches the look on their faces, Gloria says, "What? It's true. Britney Spears used to crave soil, too! Morning sickness and cravings are _not_ a joke!"

* * *

The conversations at the parking lot mercifully end, with the kids assuring Rachel they are all quite fine and happy with their win. Mr. Smith, who had been absent the whole time the conversation goes on, appears with boxes of pizzas (he gets a vegetarian pizza for Rachel), coffees and bottles of cokes for the students and the adults and they all celebrate there, at the parking lot, as the lot emptied and all that is left are Rachel, Santana, Suzie, Gloria, Mr. Smith and the kids.

Once they are finished with their celebratory pizzas and drinks, the kids all say goodbye to Rachel, Santana and Suzie as the boys get ready to push Mr. Smith's van out of the lot and Gloria gets into her car and start it, as Rachel, Santana and Suzie watch by the sidewalk.

But then, a small, blonde reporter approaches them with a cameraman in tow and asks to interview the Beatz and the group agrees, as they all answer questions.

As Rachel stands by the sidewalk, she hears Zee say, "God gave me my voice, but He let me pick my nose!" and she tries hard not to smile but finds she cannot.

The reporter makes to interview Rachel as well, but Rachel says, "It's Mrs. Gomez and Mr. Smith you want to talk to, Mrs. Gomez is right over there." And she points to Gloria in her Prius.

Santana looks at her puzzled, but Rachel ignores it as she makes her way to their car and Santana and Suzie follow them.

* * *

Rachel, Santana and Suzie part from the Beatz after lunch and the rest of the afternoon is spent with Suzie practicing her lines for "The Little Prince" play, with Rachel, in their living room, whilst Santana does some work in her small office.

In the middle of the practice, Suzie drops the worn script scribbled with stage directions, notes and doodles down to her lap and she looks at her mother, tilts her head, and asks, "Are you okay, Mee?"

"Huh, what?" Rachel asks, distracted, as she puts her own script down on her lap.

"You're not," Suzie says, matter-of-factly, as she sits down beside her mother and stares at her intently. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Rachel smiles. "It's okay, honey. It's fine."

"Is it because of Zee and the Beatz placing second?" Suzie asks. "And maybe Broadway? Waiting for your callback and stuff?"

Rachel knits her brows. "Uh, no…"

"Because I don't think Zee and the others are too upset about that. I think they're kind of okay with it actually." Suzie smiles. "Just a sec, Mee."

The child gets up, leaving her script and her mother by the couch. Rachel can only assume she has gone on to her bedroom. A few minutes later, the child comes back with a candle and pieces of a paper and a pen and a matchbox. She sets the candle on the table on the table and hands Rachel the matchbox. She then gives Rachel the pieces of paper and the pen, and keeps some for herself.

"What's this?" Rachel asks.

"Mommy taught me this," Suzie says. "And I forgot all about it, then Kate reminded me, and now I remember. You write down your wish on the piece of paper, then you burn it."

Rachel looks at her, puzzled. "Why?"

Suzie shrugs. "Why not?"

Rachel smiles. That question, "Why not?" has been the bane of her existence since she started co-parenting Suzie with Santana.

Suzie though is oblivious and says, "Well, Mee, when you write down your wish on the piece of paper, you're reticulating your wishes, your hopes and your dreams. And when you burn it, you help release it into the universe. And then it makes it more likely to come true."

"Reticulating?" Rachel asks, puzzled. Then the word comes to her. "You mean, _articulating_."

"That's what I said!" Suzie says. "So, come on, Mee, write your hopes and dreams and wishes on the paper, then we burn it."

"Uh, and the smoke alarm?" Rachel quizzes her.

"We turn it off," Suzie says, shrugging, matter-of-factly.

"Fine, I'll turn it off," Rachel says.

She gets up, turns it off, then comes back to see Suzie already scribbling on the piece of paper. She is holding a metal trash can in one hand and sets it down between them, near the table. When Rachel tries to look over her shoulder to see what she is writing, Suzie covers the paper with her hand and says, "You're not supposed to look, Mee. If you look at it, you jinx it. Where's yours?"

"Alright, alright, I'm writing it down," Rachel says, sighing, plopping down beside the girl. She grabs the piece of paper and scribbles something down.

Suzie leans over. "What'd you write, Mee?"

Rachel covers the piece of paper, then quickly folds it. "I thought you weren't supposed to look, might jinx it or something."

"Aaaw, okay," Suzie says, disappointed.

Rachel then lights the candle and the candle flame flickers to life. "Okay, now what?"

Suzie says, "We burn the paper."

"Okay."

So the two move over to the edge of the couch and each one holds the small piece of paper against the flame and watch as the paper burns. Then they drop it into the trash can and Rachel asks, "Now what?"

Suzie grins. "We wait. Our wishes will come true." She stops, thinks about it, then says, "Or not. Either way that was kind of cool."

Rachel laughs. Then she moves over and hugs Suzie.

"I have another one," Suzie says.

"What?"

"We build a fire, then throw in all the stuff that's given us bad luck, then we take off our clothes and dance around naked," Suzie says. "With sticks."

Rachel pulls away from the hug, looks at their daughter, smiles and says, "Sweetie, I think this is enough."

Suzie smiles. "Okay. But let me know if you feel bad again. We could totally do that, instead!"

Rachel smiles back. "Okay. Thanks honey."

As Rachel smiles, Suzie says, "So, Mee, have you given some thought to giving me a little sister or a little brother yet? Studies show women who have kids live longer. I read about it."

Rachel makes a face and just laughs uneasily.

"And also, based on your monthly period, you're pretty regular so the chances of you getting pregnant are pretty good," Suzie says matter-of-factly. "I can show you the chart if you want. I can tell you when you're _evolvulating_."

The smile on Rachel's face disappears. "_Evolvulating?" _Rachel asks nervously. Then she realizes what Suzie is trying to say. "Oh, you mean, _ovulating_?" Then as that sinks in, Rachel says, horrified, "Suzie! Gross. You are freaking me out now, sweetie. And didn't I _confiscate_ your charts?"

"I have them in a flash drive. Sorry." Suzie grins. "But just want to say, _carpe diem_. Mommy Britt used to say that. Seize the carp."

"Seize the carp?" Rachel asks. "I'm pretty sure that isn't what that originally means."

Suzie beams. "Just think about it, Mee."

* * *

Early that evening, when Kate comes over for a rehearsal and a sleepover, both sitting cross-legged on the couch watching a movie on Disney, Rachel's phone rings. She checks the caller ID and finds that it is Quinn.

"Hey, Quinn," she says by way of greeting. "What's up?"

"Hey, Rachel," Quinn greets back. "Sorry to bother you, but I've been trying to get in touch with Santana and her phone's always busy and stuff. Can you…"

"Tell her to call you back?"

"Yes, please," Quinn says, gratefully.

"Sure," Rachel says, listening as Quinn leaves a message for Santana. She gets up and heads to the small study room that Santana had converted into a small office outside the living room and down the hallway, just opposite the staircase. Rachel notes that this is the third phone call meant for Santana, the first being from Sam and the other being from Kurt. Sam of course, she can understand, as Sam is given to checking in on Santana and Rachel once in a while, if only sometimes, to geek out over some things, like one time he called Santana to talk about how awesome the new "The Hobbit" trailer was. Another time he called to talk about how awesome the _actual_ "The Hobbit" movie was. And another time, he had called to rant over the atrocity of the new J.J. Abrams' reboot of "Star Trek". This time, Sam calls and tells Rachel to please tell Santana that that guy from the British version of Sherlock Holmes is in the new J.J. Abrams' Star Trek sequel. What she briefly wonders about though is why Kurt would be calling for Santana instead of Rachel, although Kurt has mentioned he wanted some legal advice (Kurt asking for legal advice from Santana is, in itself, strange) from Santana. So she goes to her wife's office with messages from Quinn, Sam and Kurt.

When she gets there, Santana is talking to someone on her phone. When Santana sees Rachel, she smiles, holds up a hand as if asking Rachel to wait for a second, then swivels a bit so she is facing the windows to the right of the tiny office. Rachel smiles back, hesitates by the doorway, taking in Santana's little office. The office is simple, small, but elegant, the three walls covered from floor to ceiling with shelves covered with dark leather-bound legal books, and a few literary books that Santana likes. The fourth wall, the one to Santana's right, is a large window that covers up most of the wall, sending the afternoon light streaming in, framing Santana against the light with a soft patina of sunshine on her skin and hair. A mahogany desk sits near the window, and behind it, Santana sits. Papers, a pen, a diary planner, and a framed photograph of the three of them taken on the beach in California sit on the desk. Rachel smiles remembering that picture. It is one of Santana's favorite pictures. It is Rachel's, too. Santana has changed from her suit to a more comfortable tank top and gray sweatpants as she continues to talk on the phone, running one hand on her loose, dark wave of hair. When she notices Rachel hesitating by the doorway, she motions for Rachel to come and the woman does, coming up to, and near the desk, just in front of Santana. Santana rolls the chair near her wife, legs locking Rachel's legs with hers, hand coming up to hold Rachel by the waist. Santana looks up and smiles at her. Rachel can guess Santana is talking to her mother, just from how Santana is speaking into the phone in Spanish and sometimes English, _"Si, Mami,"_ _"No, Mami,"_ _"No, se_,_"_ _"Por que?"_ _"Cuanto es, Mami?"_ _"Es demasiado, Mami,"_ _"No me gusta, Mami," "Dolor de cabeza, Mami," _punctuated with pauses, a roll of the eyes as Santana grins at Rachel, before she says, "Rachel says hi, Mami…Yes, she's fine, Mom." Santana pauses as she listens to her mother, and then she turns to Rachel again, and covering the mouthpiece of her phone, says, "Mom wants to know what your favorite flower is."

When Rachel raises her eyebrows in question, Santana shrugs casually and says, "She can't decide what flowers to use for the bridal bouquet and stuff."

Rachel quirks a smile. "I thought flowers were symbolic vaginas or something."

Santana grins. "And that's why straight men and lesbians all over the world love 'em!" She laughs and raises her eyebrows at Rachel.

Rachel sighs. "I don't know. I think I like lilies."

"Great." Santana nods and resumes talking to her mother on the phone. "Lilies, Mom, Rachel likes lilies," she says. Then she listens, looks at Rachel, rolls her eyes and says, "Mom says they're all wrong. She says she'll just go with _rosas_, which was what she originally planned to have anyway."

Then Santana finishes the conversation on the phone with a _"Muchas gracias, Mami. _Miss you, too, Mom. Say hi to Dad and the boys for me. Yes, Mom, love you, too,_"_ says goodbye and drops the phone on the desk.

She then pulls Rachel towards her and says, "Hey."

Rachel willingly comes to her, putting her hands on Santana's head, then her face, then cupping her face as she leans over for a kiss and Santana leans to kiss her.

"Hey," Santana says, smiling into the kiss. "What's up?"

"Quinn called to say call her back, Sam called to say that Sherlock Holmes guy is in the new Star Trek movie and Kurt wants your advice on some legal matter or other," Rachel reports dutifully in between kisses.

Santana nods. "Okay. Thanks babe. Will call them later after I'd spent some quality time with the wife," she says, grinning, as her arms come around to enclose Rachel, pulling her close to her.

"And also, why is Kurt calling you? Are you guys, like, close now or something?" Rachel asks, almost like an afterthought.

Santana laughs. "What, we can't be friends now? I thought you wanted that for us."

It is Rachel's turn to laugh. "Yes, but normally, I find that a bit suspicious."

Santana grins. "Baby, you're confusing me with _Suzie_. I promise Kurt and I are behaving."

"Okay, okay. As long as you guys promise to play nice." Rachel smiles. "Rough day?"

"Hmmm,"Santana says. "Yes, Mom nagging me about her _wedding_. But it's getting better and better now. How about you? How are you?"

"Okay-ish," Rachel says. "Losing that competition was such a blow for me."

Santana smiles, knowing Rachel isn't really broken up over it. It helps that the kids weren't pretty broken up about losing either. But she plays along. "Anything I can do to make it better?"

"Well, you can kiss me and make it all better," Rachel says flirtatiously.

Santana laughs. "You know I can do so much more than kiss you to make it all better."

It is Rachel's turn to laugh. "I guess it's still on, then."

"Oh, it is _so_ on, babe," Santana says huskily as she stands up, one arm snaking around Rachel's waist as she pulls her toward herself and kisses her.

Rachel grins as she kisses her back.

* * *

Later that night, when they are in bed, making love, Santana between Rachel's legs, rocking into her, Rachel notices it. Santana looking slightly distracted, like her mind is somewhere else.

"Where are you right now?" Rachel asks Santana now, cupping her face with one hand. "You seem distracted."

"What?" Santana asks, blankly. "No, no."

A subtle sideways glance tells Rachel she is, and as Santana leans over to kiss her, Rachel puts her hand on Santana's chest, and says, "Yes, you are."

"Rachel…"

"Honey, I've lived with you, I've slept with you, I've pretty much done everything with you, don't tell me I don't know when you're distracted," Rachel says, giving her a nudge with her thigh.

Santana blushes. "Sorry. I suddenly just…have a lot on my mind lately."

There is a silence as Rachel takes this in. She is unconvinced though. Five years being with Santana means she can tell when Santana is not telling her the whole truth. She tilts her head as she looks intently at Santana by the dim, soft light of the bedside lamp.

Santana bites her lower lip, looking at Rachel now. She is silent as she leans over Rachel, right hand, beside Rachel's head, the other beneath Rachel's underwear. She opens her mouth, closes it, then she sighs, drops her head beside Rachel's, kisses her on the cheek, remains motionless for a few moments then drops beside Rachel, grabbing the white sheet to cover herself and Rachel up.

"Sorry," Santana mumbles.

Rachel turns on her side, then plops on Santana's stomach, making Santana react with an "Oomph", placing her hands on Santana's chest and cupping her chin with her hands as she looks up and smiles at her.

Presently, Santana says, hesitantly, "Baby, if I did something…well…shall we say, _unexpected_, that affects both you and me, but not so unexpected as to merit your everlasting…ire…would you kill me?"

Rachel screws up her face, knits her eyebrows and says, "Well, that depends."

"On what?"

"On what the hell you're talking about."

Santana seems momentarily surprised before she quickly says, "Baby, language! God, bad enough I'm such a bad influence on you, now you're starting to pick up my cussin' too!"

Rachel laughs. "It's Suzie and the kids, isn't it?" Rachel asks now. "That thing about babies…"

Santana looks down at her, smiles back and runs a hand on Rachel's face. "What? No."

"You're not freaking out, are you?" Rachel asks her now, gently.

"No,no."

"Okay," Rachel says. "Good. And also your daughter was telling me how having children makes you live longer and it's important to release your hopes and wishes to the universe via the means of paper and candle, and seizing the carp…"

When Santana grins, Rachel says, "And there was also something about dancing around naked…with sticks…I'm still not sure what she means, but yes, I'm pretty sure that's Brittany's kid, seeing as Brittany apparently taught her that stuff."

Santana smiles as she lifts her head to kiss Rachel's head. "Yeah, Brittany was special like that."

"And a great mom."

"As are you," Santana says, looking at her now. "I got lucky with the wives."

Rachel chuckles. "You must feel like a stud now, huh?"

Santana scrunches up her nose in a naughty expression. "Hell, yeah. But it's not like Suzie isn't your daughter, too. I mean you've singlehandedly solved the nature versus nurture debate, baby. Suzie is _definitely_ your daughter!"

"Hey! What does that even _mean_?" Rachel wonders.

Santana shrugs nonchalantly as she smiles.

"And your child is still keeping charts of my monthly period, San," Rachel says. "She knows when I'm _evolvulating._ It's really creepy."

Santana roars with laughter. When Rachel glares at her, Santana says, "Sorry."

They fall silent as Santana traces circles on Rachel's bare shoulder with a finger. Rachel looks up and shifts so she could kiss Santana. Santana ducks her head so she can kiss her back. They kiss for a long moment before they pull back, enjoying the comfortableness of just being together.

Presently, Rachel speaks up. "I'm not really sure if I could get pregnant anyway. The doctor says it's a risk I'm just going to have to take…maybe it'll take…maybe not…"

It takes a second for this to sink into Santana's consciousness, but when it does, she lifts her head, screws up her eyes and stares at Rachel. "What? I thought you couldn't…"

Rachel shrugs. "I thought I couldn't, too…but the doctor says there's a possibility." When Rachel sees what she thinks is hope flaring in Santana's eyes, Rachel quickly adds, "A very slim possibility. Maybe ten, twenty percent, or less."

"You'd been going to the doctor?" Santana asks now.

Rachel shakes her head. "No, I did, before. Right before the divorce," she says. "The doctor says I could try, but I seriously didn't think I wanted to have a child anyway, so. And then the divorce happened, so."

They are silent for a while. Rachel shifts, moves up, rests her head on Santana's chest, as Santana's arms come up to engulf her.

Suddenly Santana asks, "Do you want to, though?"

"What?"

"Have kids? Or have more kids?"

There is another silence as Rachel's hand comes up to brush imaginary lint off of the blanket.

After a few moments, Rachel mumbles, "I don't know."

Santana hugs her tightly, gives her a kiss on the head. "Okay, I just wanted to ask. It's fine."

"But can it be on the table, though?"

Santana is silent. "Sure."

There is another silence.

"You _do_ know though if and when we decide to have a baby, and the doctor says you're good to go, that you're _so_ carrying our child, right?" Santana says now with a smirk on her face.

Rachel looks up.

Santana grins. "What? I may be good at a lot of things but being with child is not one of them."

Rachel grins back. "I have no problem with that."

"I mean, I seriously really don't want the morning sickness and the cravings and stuff," Santana muses now. She shifts so she can look at Rachel. "Brittany had all sorts of weird cravings. She'd wake me up in the middle of the night so I could get her some melon-flavored ice cream sprinkled with pepper, Twinkies with garlic, pepperoni pizza with whipped cream. With a teaspoon of sand sprinkled on it." When Rachel makes a face, Santana says, "Gross, I know. And then there were days, weeks even, when I went without sex, and then were there ways when it was just sex all the time."

"Somehow, I don't think you minded that second part though," Rachel points out now with a smile.

Santana's brows rise in agreement. "True. But then there was the mood swings. And as soon as Suzie was born, I was on diaper duty forever!"

Rachel chuckles. "Makes sense though. If Brittany bore the baby, you should totally be on diaper duty forever. Which you will be as well, should I agree to bear our child."

"Hey!" Santana says, pretending mock hurt on her face.

"We can always adopt you know," Rachel reminds her.

"Okay."

There is a comfortable silence between them again, as Santana traces patterns on Rachel's naked shoulders.

"For the record though?" Santana speaks up now, "If we do decide to have a baby, I do _not_ want names like Barbara, Fantine, Cosette, Stella..." Santana says, grinning. "Or Kim or Hedwig…"

"Fine. That means Galadriel, Arwen and Eowyn are off the table," Rachel says gamely. "And also, Kirk, Scotty, Uhura, Leia…"

"Aaaaw."

"And also, anything that I can't pronounce, like Maria Consolacion Esperanza Concepcion Consuela something something…" Rachel says.

Santana laughs. "That's fine. Because if we named her Maria Consolacion, her nickname would be Maricon and she'd probably be bullied for life, because that's Spanish for gay. Which means if it's a boy, we're not going to name him loser names like Chad, Randy, Nigel or Giles. 'Cause we might as well have named him _'Desperate-for-Sex' _Berry Lopez or _'Boner'_ Berry Lopez or _'Can't-Get-Laid'_ Berry Lopez or something."

"Okay."

"But Blue is kind of growing on me, though," Santana says half-teasingly as Rachel laughs and hits her arm. "If we're using both our names for the child, she should totally be Blue Berry Lopez."

Rachel now throws back her head and roars with laughter. "You are so bad. You _do_ know you're naming our child, not a new cookie product or something."

Santana only grins. "Oooh, or we can name him Barry Berry! 'Cause that totally rhymes!"

Rachel playfully hits her on the arm. Santana fakes a grimace and laughs, before she gathers Rachel into her arms and kisses her.

"Wait, you want a girl?" she asks Santana now, when she pulls back from the kiss to lay her head on Santana's chest.

"Doesn't matter really. Girl. Boy. Whatever." Santana shrugs. "As long as it's human."

Rachel hits her on the arm again. "What, you think I'm going to give birth to something else?"

"How should I know? Maybe you'll give birth to a hobbit. Or a dwarf. Or maybe an Ewox. Or possibly a gremlin. Gross."

"Hey!"

Santana laughs as Rachel makes to hit her shoulder again. Santana continues to laugh as she says, "I mean, I'd have to remember _not_ to feed it after midnight and _not_ to give it a bath or something!" Rachel pouts, puts her lower lip out and knits her eyebrows in mock annoyance, as Santana continues, "We can call him or her Gizmo Blue! Or Mogwai! Or maybe Phoebe, because, hello? Phoebe Cates!"

Rachel continues to pout so Santana chuckles, grabs her by the waist, tickles her and rolls her over so that Santana is on top of her, straddling her with her thighs. Rachel giggles and says, in between giggles, "Stop it!" Santana laughs and stops tickling her, then she gazes at Rachel with the softest look on her face, leans over and kisses Rachel, lips soft and warm and gentle on Rachel's own. Rachel's hand automatically comes up to cup Santana's face as she kisses her back. Santana says, softly, "Doesn't matter really, baby. I do prefer girls though, just 'cause."

"I'd actually like a girl, too," Rachel admits, as she falls back on her pillow, Santana on top of her.

"As long as I get to decide how she dresses," Santana jokes now. "No spawn of mine will die a virgin just 'cause she dresses like the bait girl in 'To Catch a Predator'."

"Hey!"

When Rachel pouts again, Santana says, "Aw, you're cute when you pout, baby." Santana leans over to kiss the corner of Rachel's mouth, then makes to plant a kiss on Rachel's lips, but Rachel continues to pout so Santana says, "Alright, alright, if it makes you feel any better, legend has it that after I was born, I told the nurse she was fat."

Rachel laughs.

"I can't wait to find out how Kurt will react when we actually do decide to have a baby," Santana says now, with relish. "I bet he's going to be horrified he has to deal with _another_ Rachel Berry-Santana Lopez spawn!"

Rachel laughs then she cups her wife's face in her hands and says, "Weirdo!" before she lifts her head up and kisses Santana. As another silence descends on the couple, Rachel pushes and bucks her hips so Santana shifts and falls back on the bed and Rachel is on top of her, kissing her. They pull back and cuddle again. Santana resumes tracing circles on Rachel's shoulder as Rachel settles back into her arms and it hits Rachel, like a ton of bricks. She might actually want to have a child with Santana, wants to be the mother of Santana's child, or children, wants to give Suzie that younger sibling she'd been hinting at since the start of the school year. For some strange reason, Rachel has visions of a two-story, white suburban house, a picket fence, Santana, her, Suzie and pudgy, little Blue Berry Lopez in Osh Kosh B'Gosh overalls on the lawn as a golden retriever plays in the background. She shakes the vision from her mind.

"You're not going to crave cigarette ash, soil and paint though are you?" Santana asks now. "Because I can only take so much…I mean I love you…but…"

Rachel laughs. "Don't be silly. That's Gloria's thing, not mine."

"Oh, god, Gloria!" Santana says now. "That is one crazy woman!"

Rachel chuckles. "I know."

"And can I just say…your kids are hilarious!" Santana says, laughing now. "And very spot-on about their description of you giving birth."

Rachel makes to laugh, then realizes Santana is teasing her, so she playfully pouts and lifts a hand to hit Santana on the shoulder with.

"Ow!" Santana says. "And I love that my superpower is that I _emasculate_ men!"

Rachel makes a face and laughs. "Okay." After a few seconds, she says, "Honey, thank you."

Santana looks at her. "For what?" she asks, surprised.

"For talking about this, for bringing it out in the open," Rachel explains now.

"What, about what I told you about the nurse being fat?" Santana jokes. "Or about the fact that my superpower is emasculating men?"

Rachel rolls her eyes. "You know what I mean." When Santana raises her eyebrows, waiting for Rachel to continue, Rachel says, "For, you know, talking about whether we can have kids or whatever. I appreciate that. I thought maybe we'd be sweeping that under the rug or something."

Santana grins. "I'd rather we repress it, like other normal families, but yeah, _over_processing works too! Because we're lesbians like that!"

Rachel rolls her eyes again. "Speaking of emasculate…that reminds me, you do know you're still in a lot of trouble for making Mr. S pee in his pants today, right?"

"Aw, baby, way to ruin my fun. That was _so_ worth it, and you know it. And also, it's so cool the first thing you think of when you think of emasculate is Mr. Smith!" Santana grins. When Rachel frowns at her, Santana says, "What, are you going to _spank_ me or something?"

"Somehow, I think you'll probably enjoy that," Rachel says now with a sigh. "You probably want to test Gloria's theory about the direct correlation between spanking and orgasms."

Santana laughs. "Baby, unlike Gloria's spouse, I don't need to resort to spanking to get my wife off. I'm just _that_ amazing in bed."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Cocky much?"

Santana laughs. "Never had complaints before."

When Rachel glares at her, Santana stops laughing, clears her throat, and says, "I mean, uh, from the very few people I've slept wi…_anyway_, what are you going to do now, what with finals done and everything?"

Rachel smiles at the very pointed way Santana deliberately changes the topic. She shrugs though and says, "I don't know really. It's been crazy but it's also been…amazing…"

They start talking about the day, Santana expressing amusement and admiration at Rachel's kids' performance and so on.

Santana, shifts, scoots up a bit against the headboard and looks at her now. "You really loved those kids, didn't you? I mean, you really loved the teaching and everything else…?"

Rachel is silent for a few seconds before she nods and says, softly, "Yes, I did. I do. I really do."

Santana nods, kisses Rachel and pulling back, she says, "For what it's worth baby, I think you were awesome. And those kids of yours were awesome, too. Kind of sad that it's all going to end now, what with Finals done and everything."

Rachel nods as she leans back and rests her head on Santana's chest.

"Honey…" she starts, hesitates, before she looks up at Santana. Santana looks at her, waiting for her to go on.

"What?"

"I do have one idea though…"

"What is it?"

And Rachel talks about this idea to Santana.

Santana listens to Rachel, quite interested, watches her wife grow animated and excited as she illustrates her idea, the idea she had been thinking of since the Brooklyn Beatz happened, the idea she was thinking of whilst the Beatz were performing earlier today. Santana asks questions, like a true lawyer, cross-examining her, making sure Rachel's idea is iron-clad, without cracks or holes.

After Rachel has patiently and confidently answered every question, Santana says, smiling, "Well, seems like you have all of this figured out."

Rachel says, uncertainly, "What do you think? Is it too much?"

Santana grows silent as she thinks about it then she says, "I think it's great. And very doable."

Rachel sighs, relieved, when she hears her wife's vote of approval. She lies back on Santana's arms, happy and content, as Santana's tanned arms come up to enclose her again.

"It's not just for the kids or me, you know," Rachel says. "It's also for… Suzie…and…" and here Rachel stops, falters, swallows, then whispers "…and Brittany…"

Santana falls silent.

Rachel wonders why, thinks maybe she has crossed a line of some sort and afraid, she lifts her head, and sees Santana trying to blink back the tears, tries to swallow, but finds she cannot. She tries to open her mouth to speak, and Rachel thinks she may have hurt Santana for some strange reason and moves up to Santana, leans over, puts a hand on Santana's cheek and whispers, "Oh, honey, I'm sorry, I didn't…I'm sorry…"

"Baby…" Santana shakes her head, chokes, whispers, "Baby…"

Months later, when Rachel asks her why she had reacted the way she did that night, Santana would only say, "I thought that was one of the sweetest things you'd ever done for me, for us. And it just reminded me again how much I love you and why I love you so much in the first place."

But for now, Rachel only looks at Santana, not knowing what to say as Santana manages to choke out a reply, "That sounds wonderful."

Rachel feels a bit awkward, almost shy, embarrassed, at telling Santana about her plan, feels like it is a bit corny, a bit cheesy, but having Santana look at her now, with so much tenderness and unspoken love, makes it all worthwhile.

Rachel smiles now, to lighten the mood, leans over to kiss her wife, and whispers, throatily, "So, _stud_, how about this showing me how good you are with all these appendages you were talking about earlier?"

Santana swallows, breathes in, laughs and gathers Rachel in her arms, showering her face, her neck, her chest, her shoulders, her stomach, her hips, her thighs, with kisses as she murmurs, over and over again the words "I love you" to Rachel.

That night they make love and fall asleep in each other's arms.

* * *

The reaction to the Brooklyn Beatz's loss is instantaneous.

And again, surprising.

As the media had covered the event, they had a field day with Brooklyn Beatz's second place win and loss. The six o'clock news that night in almost all the local and national network channels carry the news that "the little club that could from Brooklyn's William Howard Taft High School", who was "clearly the crowd favorite", the "dark horse", the "ragtag band of underdogs misfits whose Broadway turned teacher and Glee Club adviser turn them around into an award-winning club", whose fight for their teacher that they took online gathered not only the astonishing publicity for the club and the school but also launched a fiery, furious debate on the state of the American secondary education system and stopped the firing of Taft's high school teachers and has the district, the board and Congress seriously re-thinking Arts funding and school funding more seriously, has _lost_. Very publicly.

Something more surprising happens though.

It doesn't stop there.

In fact, the networks delve deep into the kerfuffle, analyzing and over-analyzing the video footage of the Beatz performance as opposed to the others, pointing out that where technique and skill-wise the Beatz matched the other winning clubs point-by-point, the networks, calling on choir and music experts, realize that the Beatz lost on a technicality: they lost because of their song choices, particularly the Tupac Shakur song and the artistic choice and decision of showcasing, at times very raw pictures of emotion and the kind of realities Brooklyn youth face every day.

"This was probably something that the judges, most of which were Caucasian, were unwilling to face or give credit to and it just seemed much easier to let the club with the safer musical and artistic choices win," one of the newscasters point out.

The Beatz's loss is also the topic of the shows such as NBC's "Morning Break", "Inside Scoop", "First Edition", "Sixty Seconds", "BreakingPoint", and the butt of jokes of popular late night talk shows and variety sketch shows like "Weekend Live" which poke fun at the unfairness of the Beatz's, clearly the more superior club, loss. One talk show host joked about it, saying it was really about the Brooklyn Beatz "singing, while _black_" and the "white judges taking an issue with the fact that the kids were black kids singing black music". "BreakingPoint", a popular daytime talk show, composed of a group of five women, two of which are African American, one Jewish, one Asian American and one out lesbian, criticize the blatant racism of the competition which purports to let kids, of all racial backgrounds, ethnicities, religions, genders, artistic persuasions, compete equally and fairly and then decide on a technicality and bemoans how deeply ingrained that racism is in American society these days, saying, "What is the message these kinds of institutions are sending to young people of color of today if they're saying no matter how hard you work you're still screwed because it's still a rich, white, privileged, straight man's world out there?"

The footage of the Brooklyn Beatz singing their Grand Finals set list is posted and reposted on boobtube, blogged and reblogged on the popular blogging websites beakr, chirp, instapix, wordspot and the popular social networking site, myspacebook. Myspacebook users call for a boycott of the sponsors and ask everyone to change their profile pictures for the day by putting in the color purple as their picture. Thousands comply with the campaign and the media calls it "Purple" day, which Santana jokingly says, is "probably the gayest, most fascinating day in social networking, choir and American history".

Even the more reputable daily broadsheets and weekly newsmagazines, such as "The DailyCreature ", "Era Magazine" and the Times have jumped in with their own in-depth analysis of the situation that starts with a discussion on the competition itself, to the musical choices, to a discussion of African American music, American education, Arts Funding, and how, as Rachel has kept saying over and over again, music can save lives. They actually have studies, surveys, feature stories about successful actors, musicians, athletes and so on who have been saved by the arts in general and music in particular.

Try as they might, the organizers of the competition, no matter how much they leap to the defense of the judges, cannot seem to do much damage control, although they do admit that the song and artistic choices of the Beatz may, in fact, have affected their chances of placing first at the Grand Finals. When asked by reporters to show the score sheets that the judges used, the organizers refuse to do so, as it is confidential, they claim, so the media have even more of a field day. The organizers do offer some sort of consolation for the Beatz, but the Beatz, speaking through McG and Kareem say, to reporters, "Naw, the winners won fair and square. We be totally cool with it."

Then, there is more in store for the Beatz when the same media companies start inviting the Beatz to appear in the very same shows as NBC's "Morning Break", "Inside Scoop", "First Edition", "Sixty Seconds", "BreakingPoint" and perform as musical guest on "Weekend Live", with Gloria and Mr. Smith in tow. The group became even more of a hit, their guest appearances viewed, re-watched on , blogged and reblogged on the same social networking sites. What makes them even more of a hit with studio audience and home viewers and online people, is the fact that the kids do not seem to mind the losing, are quite modest about their win, which Rachel finds surprising, considering Kareem and Kenyatta have been very vocal about their disappointment and annoyance at their loss but later she finds out Zee and McG talked them into playing nice in front of the camera, for Rachel's sake and their own. And also, because, as Zee and McG had pointed out, "We got our fifteen minutes of fame, y'all! We give it a week, a few weeks tops, then it's back to Brooklyn for all of us. Tomorrow they be featurin' somebody else. So don't be letting all this get to your head, y'all! First thing we gotta do is graduate from high school, Miz B said. And maybe graduate from college. As for this, let's just enjoy this, y'all! Make hay while the sun is hot and all that."

Zee, obviously, becomes an instant favorite, a media darling, with his charm and offbeat one-liners. He never fails to give praise where praise is due, to his teammates, Gloria and Mr. Smith, but mostly Rachel, emphasizing how much Rachel has helped them, how she talked him out of jumping from a ledge, how she never gave up on her kids, how she was the glue that held the club together. Kareem and McG charm with their intelligence and wit, Kenyatta surprises with her clever opinions when interviewed and the rest of the club shyly answer questions from interviewers as lights and cameras are trained on them. Zee, Kareem, McG and Kenyatta become the default speakers of the group, with Gloria and Mr. Smith's guidance. The group though refuses to appear in the shows if their Miz B, Rachel is not with them, and so Rachel finds herself in front of the camera along with them, giving short, diplomatic vague answers about what it felt like to be fired, to teach students, to teach music, how teaching compared to being on Broadway and so on, a few questions which sometimes took herculean effort for Rachel not to roll her eyes. Sometimes Suzie tagged along, or Santana, but mostly it is just Rachel.

Then the Beatz get invited, one day, to perform on the American singing reality series "American Chorus", "In Tune" and the "The X-Appeal". Rachel engages the help of her agent, McPherson, to help the students in these kinds of invitations, especially since a couple of record companies have vaguely expressed interest in signing the Beatz on, although McPherson thinks they might not go through with it owing to issues of supply and demand and simple economics: the Beatz might be popular now, but who knows what's going to happen in a few weeks?

It is more than the Beatz can ask for though and the kids are just grateful people are listening to their music. In fact, the Beatz start posting a couple of original songs on their website and people have found their songs quite good.

One day in the middle of spring, Rachel gets a call from an overexcited Zee, who is so excited he cannot put two words together. She can hear the other kids in the background screaming and yelling, and from the sound of it, jumping up and down in joy. When Zee visibly calms down and the others do so as well, he manages to say that the Brooklyn Beatz and Rachel have been invited to a Democratic Party Charity Fund Raising Dinner being held downtown. "The President of the United States of America is going to be there, Miz B!" Zee practically shouts into the phone. Rachel holds the phone away from her ear when he does, but she cannot help the happiness she feels for the kids when she hears about it.

"You have to come, Miz B!" Zee says now. "You and Miz L! And Suzie, too! Mrs. G and Mr. S be comin' too!"

* * *

The Beatz sit on rows of chairs in the auditorium, completely in awe, struggling in their rented tuxes and evening gowns as they sit on chairs, glance around, all nervous and fidgety and still doubtful, as if they still believe this is all a weird dream. Rachel sits beside Santana, looking all elegant in her white strapless gown with thin silver and vertical lines. It is similar to the dress she wore during the winter showcase freshman year at NYADA. Her loose hair flows in dark brown waves all over her shoulders and back. She is wearing nothing ostentatious but her engagement/wedding ring and a small, gold star necklace with a gold chain on her neck that Santana gave her for her birthday once. Santana knows how much Rachel loves her gold stars and so she gave her one for her birthday. It is Rachel's favorite piece of jewelry, next to her wedding ring. Beside her sits her date for the night, Santana, in an equally simple, black, flowing gown that reaches to the floor. Santana's hair is done up in a beautiful knot on her head, and she is wearing long silver earrings and a simple necklace that Rachel had given her for _her_ birthday, and her wedding ring. Suzie sits beside Santana, on her right, fidgeting in the discomfort of having to wear a proper formal dress just for this occasion.

Santana sits on Rachel's right side and Rachel is gripping Santana's right hand with her own clammy left hand as she waits for the Brooklyn Beatz to perform, watching the kids nervously fidget like her.

Santana entwines her fingers into Rachel's hands, and whispers, "You okay, baby? You look like you're going to hurl any second now."

Rachel looks at her, swallows and nods her head vigorously.

"Okay," Santana whispers. "Check it out though, that guy in the suit over there? Talking to that other guy? I think they're talking about intimate stuff." Santana gestures with her head to their left, to a couple of men standing around by the edge of the stage and Rachel looks at them. Santana lowers her voice and tries to imagine what they are saying, "'Dude, don't laugh, but silk panties are awesome! They're smooth, they're comfortable, they're soft...cups your one-eyed monster like a dream'."

"Honey, no, I think…that's just gross," Rachel says, making a face while trying to stifle a smile.

"'That's fine, dawg, those pills I been takin' finally takin' effect. Starting to get boobs! Come on, man, touch it!'" Santana whispers in a low, southern drawl now. "'No, I'm good, dude. I can see your boobs fine.' 'Naw, touch it!' 'No, I'm good.' 'Naw, come _on_ touch it!' 'Get your boobs out of my face, dude!'"

Rachel is snickering now, even as she sees the New York City Mayor and Governor step to the podium and subsequently make their speeches.

"Or maybe they're talking about something else entirely," Santana continues as they keep looking at the two men now. Santana tries her best Jake Gyllenhaal accent and says, "'I wish I could quit you…!'"

Rachel trying to stifle her laughter encourages Santana to say, in a high voice, "Or the guy's probably saying, 'I'm just a boy, standing in front of another boy, asking him to love me'…"

Rachel grins and whispers, "Cut! Print! Gay!"

Santana leans in now and whispers, "Wouldn't it be so much better if the mayor and the governor made more interesting speeches? Something like, 'Yes, people, it's true, the hottest thing in this joint is the Brooklyn Beatz and Santana Lopez's hot wife, Rachel Berry.'"

Rachel rolls her eyes now but she is smiling. She leans over and whispers, "You forget, Rachel Berry's equally hot wife is awesome, too."

Santana grins and squeezes her hand. "Don't forget to breathe, baby. Breathe."

Finally, the Brooklyn Beatz and Rachel are called and they get up and perform Bob Marley's "Redemption Song", Nina Simone's "I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to be Free" and "Seasons Of Love" to a very long, enthusiastic, thunderous, hearty standing ovation, as well as the admiration and respect of the President of the United States as she shakes each of their hands and Rachel and the Beatz shake hers in nervousness and wonder.

* * *

And then, one day, out of the blue, Rachel gets a call.

The callback she has been waiting for.

She gets it one day during breakfast with her family, both Santana and Suzie getting ready for work and school respectively. McPherson calls her and excitedly informs her about the Broadway producers being stoked and really impressed about the publicity surrounding her work with the Beatz. They offer her the job for the Barbara Streisand musical. The rehearsals start late that spring and the show starts around late autumn on a limited run.

She is happy about it, but finds it all strangely anticlimactic.

The first day of rehearsals, when she comes for the orientation, and meets her co-stars, the producer, the director, the choreographer, the musical director, the stage manager and her assistant, the set and costume designer and even the lighting technician and the props and costumes master, she feels it, the sudden elation, the excitement, rushing to her as she clutches her copy of the script, sitting in the small office as she listens to the director and producer talk. Then later, when she sees the theater, the massive velvet curtains, the rows and rows of seats, that familiar, musty, moldy, slightly stale smell of the cavernous theater, sees the lights up on the ceiling, the scaffolding, the tables, the backstage, the stage itself, she draws in her breath, feels her heart beat really fast, feels like she has come home. And when she goes through the script, listens to the director give stage directions, rehearses with the musical director and with her co-stars, gets fitted for the costumes, even when she does something mundane as do vocal warm-ups and vocal exercises, she cannot hold it back, this excitement of being able to do this again, something that she thought she'd never be able to do again, really. And her voice, her movements, her mind, follow her, do not fail her, as she goes through the notes of every Barbara Streisand song that has been included in the play, her body, lithe and light, follows the director's instructions instinctively, gliding from center stage to stage right to stage left quickly, her mind absorbing the lines, the songs, the script with accuracy, as if it has hungered for just such an opportunity to flex itself, to commit to memory the lines needed for the play.

And yet, sometimes, just sometimes, when the director says, "Alright, take five everyone!" and Rachel retreats to a corner of the stage, or the studio or the rehearsal room, hydrating or snacking on carrots or a veggie burger, script in hand, she suddenly remembers the Beatz, and Taft High and suddenly feels this unexplainable, inexplicable heaviness, a vague emptiness even, as if what she is doing now seems trivial somehow, seems to lack the kind of depth and breadth and weight her work with the Beatz had. Especially since she does still see them sometimes on the television and when she logs on to their website, she sees more and more people logging on, expressing support and admiration for the group.

And then she remembers the mayor, the governor, even the President of the very same United States of America expressing dismay at the Beatz loss, and Taft High's problems and have pledged their commitment to see to it that Taft High and its Arts Programs get the necessary attention it deserves.

In fact, during that brief meeting with the President that one time during that charity fundraising dinner, right after their performance, the President herself expresses her desire to meet Rachel and they have a brief chat in which the President both praises and thanks Rachel for her work with the Beatz, commenting that, "We need more people like you, Miss Berry, in our schools. I know it sounds strange and overused and maybe even corny, but the future of our nation rests solely now on people like you who have the passion and commitment to education and the arts."

When Rachel only smiles, too dumbstruck to say anything, only remembering thinking that being on Broadway had not given her the opportunity to cross paths with the President in this way (the President is notoriously pro-people of color and pro-minorities and has been known to have had clashes with people over her staunch pro-stance on gay and women's rights, civil rights and affirmative action) and only nods. Rachel also remembers thinking how tall the President is, about five foot ten or eleven she estimates, and she has to lean over a bit to talk to Rachel. The President has iron gray hair, a squarish face, intelligent, sharp eyes, a strong, aquiline nose, and the look of someone who likes to win and likes to make her enemies cry. That night though, the President is congenial, conciliatory and totally different from the persona she exudes during press briefings, her State of the Nation Addresses and her debates with the latest ailing old, white, filthy rich Republican the Republic Party has rounded up to challenge her during the presidential debates. The President casually asks then, "So, Miss Berry, where to now? Any plans of replicating this success in other school districts?"

Rachel only laughs. "Oh, I don't know about that, Madam President," she says. "It's hard to sell the arts these days."

"Yes, I noticed that," the President says, "Seeing as, pardon my language, America seems to prefer watching reality shows about hillbillies and rednecks and rich heiresses more than anything. But, as you know, 'art is the proper task of life', as they say."

Rachel smiles. "Friedrich Nietzsche."

The President smiles. "Ah, you know your Nietzche. A teacher after my own heart." The President's personal secretary comes to inform her there are a few dignitaries waiting to meet her, so the President smiles and nods, tells her secretary to wait, then turns to Rachel and says, "I must go, but it was nice to meet you, Miss Berry."

Rachel smiles. "It's was nice meeting you, too, Madam President…"

The President smiles. "I do hope you would reconsider a life in education though. And if you do reconsider, I do know of some people who might be interested in your little crusade to bring a bit more culture to the masses." The President nods and makes to turn around. Then as she turns to follow her secretary, she turns around again and says, "By the way, congratulations on your wedding and good luck with starting a family, Miss Berry. Your daughter, Suzie, by the way, is lovely."

Rachel blushes a deep, deep red.

* * *

Both Santana, who has become busy again with work, and Suzie, who is busy with school work and the play, are delighted Rachel is back on Broadway. Santana picks Rachel up whenever she can but when she cannot, they still have a proper family dinner with either take-out food or food cooked by Rachel when she isn't too tired from rehearsing.

Suzie's school stages the musical play, "The Little Prince" in spring and they watch proudly as Suzie, as the fox, and Kate, as the princess (the production had taken liberties with the characters and had a princess instead of a prince at Suzie and Kate's insistence) nail their characters perfectly. Suzie pulls double duty, playing both the rose and the fox and the two women find Suzie and Kate's performance together adorable, each one making the other's performance better. Kate's voice is divine as she sings the songs, while Suzie dances and delivers her lines to perfection. The sets are typical school play sets, but there is a charm to how the planets are made, all lumpy and uneven papier maché creations that show where the little prince (or as in Kate's case, princess) has been. Rachel particularly likes the planet where there are forty four sunsets. Santana whispers that she is quite impressed with the rose and fox costume that Kurt had made for their daughter. Kurt is busy with work and is thus unable to come to the show, but has sent flowers for Suzie.

The audience responds to the play the way Rachel and Santana have, and its charm is not lost on them as they give Kate, Suzie and the rest of the cast and their adviser, a standing ovation.

* * *

Later, on a Friday spring weekend, Santana and Suzie both go home to Lima, Ohio for Dr. and Mrs. Lopez's wedding ceremony that Saturday afternoon. Rachel has rehearsals so she follows soon after on the train.

The two pick Rachel up at the train station when she arrives in Lima later that night, exhausted but happy for a break from the drama and excitement of New York.

The Lopezes, as always, greet her that night with much excitement and warmth, with hugs and pecks on the cheek and after, the family listens eagerly over dinner to Rachel's account of what happened in New York at Taft, and with the Beatz, Grand Finals, the publicity, the television guestings, the new Barbara Streisand musical play she is currently rehearsing for and starring in, the Democratic Party charity fundraising dinner and the meeting with the president of the United States. Rachel isn't sure if Santana had already told her family about their wedding, so she gracefully skirts the issue with smiles.

"_Mija_, we're _so_ proud of you!" Mrs. Lopez says, clapping hands together as she says so.

The other Lopezes, Dr. Lopez, Carlos and Carlitos, nod their heads vigorously and grin, mouths full of _salchichas Americanas_. Suzie just smiles enigmatically as she pops her own sausage in her mouth.

Santana laughs and rolls her eyes at her family as she puts her hand on Rachel's thigh. Rachel covers her wife's hand with her own and smiles at her.

Outside the dining room and kitchen, Rachel can see that the Lopezes' modest backyard with its immaculately trimmed lawn, has been set up with a large open air tent, the canvas billowing in the early evening spring air, with tables and chairs already arranged neatly, sheets and plastic draped over them so as to prevent them from getting wet from the morning dew. She can see a make-shift wooden stage for where the wedding will be held, a place where the sound system will be put and so on. Mrs. Lopez informs her, when she catches Rachel looking at the backyard over the window, that the flowers, tulle and other wedding trappings will be set up tomorrow, as they didn't want them wilting and getting wet or being carried away by little furry animals. Rachel smiles and nods. "Sounds exciting," she comments to Mrs. Lopez.

The rest of the night is uneventful, despite the general noisiness, cheer and chatter that accompanies any visit to the Lopezes, with Santana and Carlos bickering over who is the better fighter, Marquez, Mayweather or Pacquiao, Suzie making fun of Carlitos, Dr. Lopez doing his impersonations and Mrs. Lopez and Rachel watching them on one side of the living room, shaking their heads in disbelief at the others.

"They're all children, I tell you, Rachel, _all_ of them," Mrs. Lopez says as she rolls her eyes at them.

Rachel laughs. "Yes, they are, Mrs. Lopez."

Mrs. Lopez shakes her head. "_Mom_, Rachel. Mom is fine."

Rachel smiles sheepishly.

* * *

That Saturday is a hectic day for the Lopez household as there is much chaos and hustle and bustle in the morning.

Rachel is exhausted from the day before and so she sleeps late, and Santana does not wake her up until it is necessary. Since the household is up in arms and disorder is the rule of the day, the two decide to escape the pandemonium and have brunch at the local café, deciding only to appear when the wedding ceremony is to take place, which would be a little after noon. They thus enjoy a comfortable morning in one of the booths in the café, just chatting with each other.

"So, what do you think of the chaos that is my parents' wedding?" Santana asks now, as she slowly stirs her second cup of brewed coffee.

Rachel laughs. "I think it's awesome. But I'm so glad we skipped that one. I mean I'd forgotten about the chaos of planning and having your own wedding. I almost didn't go through with the first one!"

"Wait, I thought you wanted the big garden wedding and stuff?" Santana asks now. "I mean I thought this was what you wanted? You were storyboarding it only a couple of months ago."

Rachel smiles at her. "Yes, but this is fine, too. Doesn't really matter anymore to me, honey. What matters is being married to you, that's all."

Santana smiles back.

When they get back, they notice that the house has suddenly gone quiet and Rachel briefly wonders why, but then she sees Carlos running frantically away from Suzie and so she thinks nothing of it.

Rachel and Santana quickly dress inside their bedroom. Rachel is wearing the palest of pink gowns with spaghetti straps that hug her body in all the right places and reach down to the floor. She wears her hair down in loose waves and watches as Santana dresses herself up in a nearly identical, very pale pink gown with a slit that starts from the thigh and goes all the way to the floor. She steps to Rachel, turns and raises her hair and Rachel smiles as she zips Santana up, her hand lingering on the exposed tan skin on Santana's back. She runs her hand on Santana's back, brushing the small of her back, before she whispers, "You're so beautiful" and presses her lips on Santana's back, neck and shoulders. She then engulfs Santana in a hug, putting her arms on Santana's waist and pulling her back towards her. Santana's hand comes up to touch her arms, then she turns around, holds Rachel, and with one hand, cups her face, kisses Rachel. They stand in their room, for what seems like forever, as they kiss some more.

"Okay, we've got to go," Santana says now, offering her hand to Rachel.

Rachel wonders why, when she grabs Santana's hand, it is cold and clammy and her wife mutters that she is "just nervous, that's all" in a casual tone that doesn't hide the fact that there seems to be more as she notices the subtle swallow Santana makes as they make their way down the hall, and the stairs and the back door.

Before Santana opens the door, she takes a deep breath, looks at Rachel, then says, nervously, "Baby, remember that time when I asked you if you would kill me if I did something unexpected that you or may not like?"

Rachel stares at her, wondering what she is talking about, before saying, "Honey, we're going to be late…we have a wedding to attend…"

Santana swallows, then nods. "Okay." Then she grabs the doorknob, starts to open it, then slams it again, and Rachel looks at Santana and says, "What is the matter, San? You're acting all weird today."

"It's nothing, nothing," Santana says, punctuating her answer with a vigorous shake of the head. Then she leans on the door and says, "But baby, remember what I said about dreading having to tell my family about our wedding?"

"Um, yeah…" Rachel replies uncertainly, wondering what Santana is getting at.

"Well…" Santana says, hesitantly. "The thing is…they kind of…didn't take too kindly to the news that we got married secretly and didn't even tell anyone, not even my family."

"What are you talking about?" Rachel asks, knitting her eyebrows, as she makes to grab the doorknob instead.

Santana covers Rachel's hand with her own. "Baby, what I'm trying to say is…they were very unhappy with our secret wedding."

Rachel stops, looks at Santana and asks, "What?"

Santana nods.

"I don't understand," Rachel asks. "What does this have to do with your parents' wedding?"

Santana shakes her head. "No, you don't understand," she says, frustrated. She stops, closes her eyes, puts her fingers to her forehead, then her eyes, then she sighs and her eyes fly open and she looks at Rachel, steadily, and says, "Just remember, baby, you promised to be with me, in sickness and in health, so you have to promise me you'd be with me even with all the craziness, too."

When Rachel says nothing, but only stares at Santana in confusion and wonder, Santana says, "Just…promise me you won't get mad, or kill me after today, okay? And no matter what happens, please know that I love you, and my family does, too, so…"

"I don't know what you are talking about…and you're freaking me out now, honey…" Rachel mutters as she reaches for the doorknob and turns it.

When they get to the backyard, Rachel then realizes what Santana is talking about.

Rachel does not understand it at first.

The place is simple, beautiful and elegantly decorated and designed, with rows of equidistant chairs neatly arranged and facing the stage, where the wedding ceremony will take place. There is an aisle in the middle with a maroon velvet carpet rolled out. There are simple white tulles that hang on the aisles and surround the chairs. The wedding ceremony stage is a simple wooden stage and a wall covered with lilies, ivy, rosebuds and cloth stand. Vases of lilies adorn the stage and the aisles.

She looks at the guests, and she sees Sam, Quinn, Jeffrey, their son, Aidan, Kurt, his drag queen friends Andre, Pepper and Felicia in full drag, Tina, Mike, Mercedes, McPherson, Paul, her friend from West End, Suzie's grandparents, the Pierces, Kate and her mother, Emma and at the back, at the entrance, she isn't sure, but she sees her parents, the Berrys and, this one she isn't sure about, but someone who looks vaguely like Anna Farris. She screws up her eyes and briefly wonders if her eyes are deceiving her or if that is really Tipper _Potts_. She sees that Dr. and Mrs. Lopez are at the back, Dr. Lopez in a handsome tux, Mrs. Lopez in a pale, violet gown, smiling at them. Suzie stands beside them, all beautiful in a pale, violet gown that emphasizes how tall and slender she has become. Carlos, in his own tux, sits on the front row with a stupid, mischievous grin on his face with young Carlitos by his side, uncomfortable in his own tux. Tia Evita is beside him with the same grin on her face. She is also wearing a simple, pale violet ensemble that accentuates the generous curves of her body. Santana's Abuela is also there as well, sitting beside Tia Evita.

Rachel wonders at first why the wedding guests are composed mostly of people she and Santana both know, instead of the people that Dr. and Mrs. Lopez both know, but then, Kurt and Sam, both in matching gray tuxes, both take their places by the stage, and Quinn, in a pale violet gown takes her position opposite them. Tia Evita takes her place by the center of the stage and a Jewish rabbi, who she later finds out is a woman named Rabbi Cohen, suddenly appears out of nowhere and stands beside Tia Evita as well.

When she steps out of the back door, confused and bewildered and not a little surprised and now nervous, because she does not understand what is going on and takes a step into the backyard, the guests all stand up and suddenly applaud her and Santana.

Then the music plays, Bach, by the sound of it, then as Rachel stands confused, not knowing what to do, Santana looks at her, takes one step down and, still all nervous and pale, says, "Baby, please don't be mad, and please don't kill me…but…remember I told you my family didn't take the news of us getting married secretly so well?" here she smiles sheepishly and says, "Well, they kind of overreacted and insisted, nay, _decided_ to throw us a surprise wedding." Santana looks down at the ground and looks up again at Rachel and eyes full of love, shyly, softly and nervously asks Rachel, "So, Mrs. Lopez, would you marry me again, please?"

Rachel looks at her, even more confused, then it dawns on her.

It wasn't Dr. Lopez and Mrs. Lopez's wedding ceremony at all.

It is Rachel and Santana's wedding.

And as this realization dawns on Rachel, a smile slowly spreads on her face and she leans over and plants a kiss on Santana's lips.

"Of course, honey. Of course."

* * *

_**Author's notes:**_

_**That's it for this chapter! Hope you enjoyed it! Your kind reviews are welcome and will be much appreciated! :) **_

_**I was going to wait until Chapter 29 to spring the last part of this chapter for you, but seeing as it's Christmas I thought maybe I should include this, as a kind of gift for and to you (and also because this story is almost done, and the only reason it isn't done now is because I have a thing about ending stories in numbers divisible only by five or ten hahah!), since you've been with this story for so long. So I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**_

_**Also, many thanks again for the kind reviews and encouragement you left from the last chapter. They were all very uplifting and really gave me the support I needed as I power through this story. Again, many thanks to DragonsWillFly for the friendship, encouragement and laughter while I was writing this chapter. It is much appreciated.**_

_**As for Glee S4 and that really, wholly unnecessary, inappropriate dig at its fans, I am over it. I guess in some ways I stuck around for the music and the singing, but even that has lost its appeal these days. Annalee Newitz over at io9 dot com talked about the power of stories and how stories are important because it's a safe way of exploring the unknown in ourselves and the world, of realizing that things don't have to be the way they are, to remind us that there are many ways of looking at the world, - and I guess fan fic stories and fan fic writing does this as well, and the fan fic I've read and loved and this fan fic I'm writing now, also shows us that Glee doesn't have to be what it is, that we can take these characters and make our own stories from that and make it our own. That helped me get over my disappointment and annoyance at the last ep. :) And since this story is almost finished, I'd like to thank everyone again, for sharing this journey with me.**_

_**Now on to your comments:**_

_**To I Breathe Because Of You - Hi! Welcome to this verse! Just want to say, many thanks for reading "In the Loop", "The Space Between" and this story and for leaving your very nice review. I am glad you love the whole series, Suzie, Zee (aka Baz), the kids, Rachel, Santana, Sam, Quinn, the whole lot of them. Glad you enjoyed the Beatz and Santana meet and greet! I quite enjoyed writing that one! ;) As the summary has indicated, I wanted a story that celebrated relationships, family, friendships, music, love and so on, something that Glee has been remiss on since the back half of Season 1, really. :-) I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**_

_**To Paula de Roma - Hi! Thanks for reading and reviewing! I am sorry for making you cry! :) I hope I did so in a good way! ;) Glad you enjoyed this chapter and the Santana and the Beatz meet and greet. And you are right, Santana Lopez is the best thing since Santana Lopez! Hahaha! As for the lesbian blogger community comment - I've said it before and I'll say it again, the lesbian blogger community is awesome! And hilarious! Hahah! Re: Missing this fic when it's finished - aaaw, I'm sorry to hear that. Now you're making me miss writing it, too! :) Hope you enjoyed this chapter!**_

_**To Queen Nan - Hi! Thanks for reading and reviewing! Glad you are enjoying it and loving the kids. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!**_

_**To amazinglife - Hi! Thanks for reading and reviewing! Glad chapter 27 didn't disappoint you as that Santana-Beatz meet and greet has been in my head for a long time! hahah! Yes, I thought it would be fun to get them together, too! Glad you liked Gloria,too! As for the Beatz placing second, you're right, they're winners. Thank you as well for your kind words, re: not quitting writing fan fic. Anyway, hope you enjoyed reading this chapter!**_

_**To CarolineSC - Thanks for reading and reviewing! I know the Beatz lost, but hope this chapter made you feel better! Re: epic set list - thank you. Thought a little Tupac and Nina Simone with a dash of Crowded House/Sixpence None the Richer and Wallflowers was in order. :) Hope you enjoyed this chapter.**_

_**To ichigo111981 - Thanks for reading and reviewing. Glad you found chapter 27, Santana meeting the kids funny! Hope this chapter helps answer your questions, re: what happens to the Beatz. Hope you enjoyed chapter 28!**_

_**To kickangel - Hi! Thanks for reading and reviewing! Glad you enjoyed chapter 27. Glad to know you are glad that that none of the Ohio clubs placed. Yes, "You Will Never Walk Alone" is a good song. I am familiar with the English Premier League. :) I do have a team I root for, although like you, I have a soft spot for Liverpool, too. That's where the Beatles are from after all. As for not giving up writing - thank you. I got into fan fic late, and only got into it because Glee had gotten to the point where it was really, really bad. And also because of that IKAG-Santana-being-forcibly-outed ep, the most awful episode bar the lesbian-blogger-community ep. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!**_

_**To parker88 - Hi! Thanks for reading and reviewing chapter 27! Re: boycotting Glee S4 - Strangely enough, it wasn't as hard as I thought it was going to be. :) Especially since there are other TV shows that are better out there I heard the episode right after the last one sucked too. Guess I should have given up a long time ago but…Santana Lopez! You know? hahah! I think that show is going to suck forever now, without Santana Lopez or Rachel Berry being showcased as frequently. Yes, my beta, DragonsWillFly is awesome like that!haha! :) We say thanks to you for that kind message. As for Santana and The Beatz meet and greet, Gloria oversharing and Santana going gangster over Mr. Smith - glad you loved all of it! Hope you enjoyed this chapter too!**_

_**To Tabula Rah-Suh - Hi! Thanks for reading and reviewing! It is much appreciated. I particularly liked your kind comments on my writing style, characterizations, Rachel, Santana and Suzie. Thank you. I wanted an organic journey for Rachel that would really show that heart and compassion, amazing ideas and that really nice relationship with Suzie. And yes, Santana's love, her support and loyalty is something I wanted to illustrate (seeing as we never see any of it in season 3 or 4). There was so much potential for both of these characters in the show and the creators kind of just squandered it and that's really too bad. Glad you enjoyed chapter 27! And I must agree, Rachel and Santana are really perfect for each other! I mean, come on, their interactions, conversations together are so much fun and hilarious! And really, really fun to write! Haha! Hope you enjoyed this chapter as well!**_

_**To kutee - Hi! Thank for reading and reviewing Chapter 27! Glad you loved chapter 27, the Santana-Beatz meet and greet, Santana going all Lima Heights on Mr. Smith, Gloria oversharing, Suzie's little hints and the competition. And of course Rachel's got game! Haha! Hope you enjoyed this chapter too!**_

_**To SoFlaComet - Hi! Thanks for reading and reviewing! Glad you enjoyed the funny, as I really enjoyed writing it! Hope you enjoyed chapter 28 too! And as always, you're welcome. ;)**_

_**To sammywammy - Thanks for reading and reviewing! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!**_

_**Songs featured for this chapter:**_

_**"I Wish I Knew What It Means to be Free" by Nina Simone**_

_**"Redemption Song" by Bob Marley**_

_**"Seasons of Love" from the musical "Rent"**_


	29. Of Princes, Foxes and Roses

_**Author's note: Dear readers - Chapter 29 is up! Something to read for the holidays. **_**:)**_** Happy holidays and happy reading! Know it's the holidays, so, here, have some fluff. **_**:)**

* * *

Their wedding, for lack of a better word, is perfect.

And beautiful.

And all kinds of amazing.

Rachel goes through it as if in a dream.

The bridal processional begins with Pachelbel's Canon in D major playing in the background. Rachel knows this music as she had specifically told Santana once that it was the music she had wanted to play for their wedding. It was the only music she had ever wanted to walk down the aisle to, something she had never had the opportunity to do during her first wedding, and even the aborted wedding with Finn in high school, seeing as Finn was never the brightest of tools in the shed in the first place. Hearing it now makes her speechless, the lump in her throat growing, realizing that Santana had, through all the eye rolling she had done every time Rachel gave her an update about the wedding plans, remembered this one simple little detail. The lump grows as Santana leads her to the back of the entrance to the center of the aisle, where a velvet carpet has been rolled out over a large, wooden platform, which has been placed over the emerald, immaculately trimmed lawn. There, Rachel's fathers, Hiram and Leroy Berry, have taken their place, in matching tuxedos, waiting for her. Suzie and Kate have taken their place in the front of the bridal procession, Kate holding a basket of rose petals, Suzie holding a small, heart-shaped, white silk pillow where two, simple gold rings are tied together by a ring, glinting by the mid-afternoon light. Suzie and Kate look beautiful in their pale violet gowns, Suzie's dark blonde hair and Kate's dark, curly hair swept up in beautiful buns, tendrils flowing down and interspersed with little baby's breath flowers. Behind Suzie and Kate stand Quinn in her own gown, holding a small bouquet of lilies. Before Santana leaves Rachel with her fathers, Santana leans over and whispers in Rachel's ear, "Breathe baby, breathe." Rachel smiles nervously at her and manages to whisper back, "I love you." Santana smiles, squeezes Rachel's arm and replies, "I love you, too." Santana takes her place with her parents, behind Rachel. Kurt is also around to help with the wedding and the processional, and Rachel again is amazed at how Kurt and Santana, who she guesses planned the wedding together with Santana's family, would be able to plan all of this together. She looks at Kurt now rushing around to make sure everything is in order, Bluetooth in one ear, a little walkie talkie in one hand, as he nods for the bridal party to proceed and rushes, himself to the altar to take his place as one of the best men.

The procession goes by in a blur for Rachel as her eyes become blurry with the tears she is blinking back from her eyes. Her fathers say nothing as they lead her to the front, as she hooks her hands on their arms and they smile quietly at her and at the crowd who are all, as one, looking at her, Santana and the rest of the bridal party walking down the aisle.

As the ceremony begins with Santana's Tia Evita beginning the ceremony with the call to worship, Rachel feels like it is all unreal.

When they reach the altar, Santana leans over and quickly whispers to Rachel, "Baby, I'm sorry, Tia Evita insisted she officiate the wedding, to make it more personalized or something. Apparently she's certified in Ohio and Florida. And it's also her first time, so she's very nervous, so cut her some slack okay?"

Rachel nods, grabs Santana's hand and gives it a squeeze.

Presently, Tia Evita, who does look a little nervous, begins, "Good afternoon, everyone. We gather here in the sight of God and these witnesses to unite Rachel and Santana in holy alimony." Santana leans over, whispering, "Tia, it's matrimony, not alimony" to Sam and Carlos, all standing to the couple's right, smirks and knowing grins.

"That's what I said," Tia Evita whispers back. When Santana rolls her eyes, Tia Evita says, "Alright. Santana and Rachel, as you prepare to take these bows," ("Vows, Tia," Santana mutters) " give careless thought and prayer, for as you make them you make _excluded_ commitment one to the other for as long as you both shall _leave_."

Rachel's nervousness, the lump in her throat, the general feeling of being overwhelmed is assuaged by Santana standing by her side and strangely enough, with the familiar face of Tia Evita officiating in front of her, even if, true to form, Tia Evita is bungling up the words to the ceremony. She looks at Santana, who is now squirming and feeling uncomfortable with Tia Evita's words, but for some strange reason, Rachel has always found Tia Evita charming and adorable, and so she reaches out her hand and squeezes Santana's hand, which has now noticeably warmed after the general clamminess of earlier. Santana looks at her hand on her own, looks up at Rachel and mutters, "Sorry."

"It's okay," Rachel whispers.

Presently, Tia Evita says, "Your love for each other should never be _diminutive_ by _circumstantial difficulties_. It is to endure until death _farts_ you."

As Santana tries to whisper that it is "difficult circumstances" and not the other way around, a snicker from Sam and Carlos is cut by Kurt hitting both on the arm and Sam and Carlos try their best to muffle laughter trying to burst out of their lips with coughs and hands on their mouths. Quinn, in turn, struggles, trying to knit her eyebrows, and pursing her lips tightly together to keep from laughing.

As Tia Evita continues, she explains that the wedding ceremony will be conducted in both the Jewish and Christian wedding tradition, as, she explains, Rachel is Jewish and Santana isn't. Rachel likes how Tia Evita doesn't really point out that Santana has only been a nominal Catholic for years now and that the only reason they are having a Christian part of the wedding is only for Santana's family's sake, not Santana's. Rachel feels touched by this gesture, that Santana, and by extension, her family, would go out of their way, not only to seek out a rabbi, but also to integrate Jewish practices into the wedding. It suddenly occurs to her that maybe Kurt, Sam and Quinn, and perhaps even Suzie, had a hand in the planning of the wedding as well, judging from the fact that she had no idea until the last minute what was going on.

Presently, Tia Evita leads the people in a prayer that starts out beautifully, invoking God's love as the richest and greatest gift to the world, how love between two people which matures into marriage is one of God's most beautiful types of loves. Tia Evita continues, "Today we celebrate that love. May your blessing be on this wedding service. Protect, guide, and bless Rachel and Santana in their marriage. Surround them and us with Your love now and always." But then, Tia Evita says, "In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Gout. Amen."

Another muffled snicker and a chortle come from Santana's right, as Tia Evita realizes her error and corrects herself quickly by saying, "Ghost, ghost!" and both women look to Sam and Carlos trying their best not to laugh out loud, but by how red their faces are, and how the veins have been sticking out of their faces, Rachel can tell they've been trying their hardest not to ruin the wedding. Especially since Santana and Kurt are both glaring at the men.

Tia Evita now continues with the charge, "Hand in hand you enter marriage, hand in hand you step out in _fate_. The hand you freely give each other is both the strongest and the tenderest part of your _buddy_." Tia Evita pauses, then she says, "Rachel and Santana, the _coven_ you make with each other is a beautiful and _secret_ expression of your love for each other. As you pledge your _bows_ to each other, and as you _comment_ your lives to each other, do so in all seriousness, and with a deep sense of joy; with the deep _eviction_ that you commit yourselves to a _dymanic_ growing relationship of trust, mutual support, and caring love." Tia Evita then smiles at both the women and says, "Remember, you don't walk this path alone. Don't be afraid to _rich_ out to others when together you face difficulty. Other hands are there: friends, family, and the church. It is not admission of failure to accept outreached hand. It is act of faith. For behind us, underneath us, around us all, are the outstretched arms of the Lord. It is into his hand, the hands of God, that, above all else, we commit Rachel and Santana's _minion_. Amen."

A sound, half-way between a whimper and snort is heard at the right side of the couple followed by a sound like a thud, as of a foot stepping on another foot and a whispered, "Ow!" Out of the corner of her eye, Rachel can see that it is Sam who has yelped in pain as he tries to stand on the one good foot. Kurt stands beside him, innocently watching the ceremony.

Tia Evita, on the other hand, continues with the pledge and says, "Santana and Rachel, you make a very serious and important decision in choosing to marry each other today. You enter into a sacred _coven_ as life partners in God. The quality of your marriage _deflect_ what you put into _maturing_ this relationship. You have opportunity to go forward from today to create a faithful, kind, and tender relationship. We bless you this day. It is up to you to keep the blessings flowing each and every day of your lives together. We wish for you the wisdom, compassion, and _complacency_ to create a peaceful _ossuary_ in which you can both grow in love."

Santana makes to patiently correct Tia Evita, softly whispering that it's "sacred" not "secret", "conviction" not eviction", "covenant" not "coven", "union", not "minion", "reflect" not "deflect", "nurturing" not "maturing", "constancy" not "complacency" and it is "sanctuary" not "ossuary", but Tia Evita continues with the ceremony, oblivious, much to the amusement of the men standing beside the couple.

Rabbi Cohen then speaks up and conducts the Kiddushin, the ceremony that will formally bind Rachel and Santana in the covenant of marriage. Thankfully, Rabbi Cohen says everything correctly, providing a nice contrast to Tia Evita. Before Rabbi Cohen proceeds with Kiddushin, Rabbi Cohen patiently explains to the non-Jewish contingent what it means, explaining that the Kiddushin reflects the significant personal and legal responsibilities both women are undertaking. During Kiddushin, Rachel and Santana both recite the Birkat Erusin, the betrothal blessing, as they make their vows to each other, thus,

"_Blessed is the Lord our God, Ruler of the universe, Creator of the fruit of the vine. _

_Blessed is the Lord, our God, Ruler of the Universe, who frees us from fear and shame and opens us to __the holiness of our bodies and its pleasures so that we may become betrothed in righteousness, __justice, loving-kindness and compassion. Blessed is the Lord, our God, who sanctifies His __people Israel through chuppah and kiddushin…"_

After they are done with the _Kiddushin_, Rabbi Cohen conducts the _Nisuin_, the nuptials, which Rabbi Cohen explains to the congregation, focuses on Santana and Rachel's spiritual connection to one another and before HaShem. During the _Nisuin_, the _Sheva Brachot_ is read. The _Sheva Brachot_, or the Seven blessings, Rabbi Cohen explains, are a communal expression of gratitude for all that is wonderful in the world from the simple gift of wine to the capacity to love. Rabbi Cohen further explains that these blessings that are read include themes that celebrate the human capacity to express joy, embodied in the symbol of wine, the wonder of creation, the creative power of humanity, the extraordinary nature of being human, imbued with a capacity to strive toward the divine, the healing and restorative capacity of meaningful relationships, the joy experienced when celebrating the loving commitment of two people for each other and the joy that two people find in one another.

So Santana and Rachel recite and repeat the first part of the seven lines, _"__Blessed is the Lord our God, Ruler of the universe…" and then they say, "…Creator of the fruit of the vine", "…For creating all things in Your glory", "…Who gives life to every human being", "…Who made us in Your image, to live, love and perpetuate life", "…Who gives life to every being". _Then for the next reading, they say,

"_May Zion rejoice as her children are restored to her in joy. Blessed is the Lord our God, who causes Zion to rejoice in her children."_

"_Grant perfect joy to these loving companions, as You did in the beginning for Your creatures in the Garden of Eden. Blessed is the Lord our God, who grants the joy of loving companions._

"_Blessed is the Lord our God, Ruler of the universe, who created joy and gladness, lover and friend, mirth, song, delight and rejoicing, love and harmony, peace and friendship. O, Lord, our God, may there always be heard in the cities of Judah and in the streets of Jerusalem voices of joy and gladness, voices of lover and friend, the jubilant voices of those joined in marriage under the canopy, the voices of young people feasting and singing. Blessed is the Lord our God, who causes brides to rejoice beneath their chuppah."_

After the _Sheva Brachot _is read, Rabbi Cohen and Tia Evita conduct the women's exchanging of vows. Rabbi Cohen explains that the couple will achieve _kinyan_ by acquiring each other through acceptance – a process of the couple offering themselves to each other and being accepted by the other.

But first, Rabbi Cohen and Tia Evita announce that the women will now exchange their wedding vows.

Santana now faces Rachel and takes a deep breath.

"Rachel, I can't really tell you how much I love you and you already know sometimes I can't find the right words to say how deep that love is for you, so forgive me if I borrow words from people who can say these things better than I ever will," Santana says, smiling nervously. "I think Pablo Neruda says what I feel best: _'I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.'_"

Rachel feels herself tear up as she smiles at Santana. "Oh, San…" she whispers now.

Santana smiles back and says, "You kind of…in the words of Keith Miller…_lightly ran your finger over my soul til you found a crack and then gently poured your love into that'_."

A sniffle from their right makes them glance at Kurt and strangely enough, Sam, who are both starting to tear up over what Santana has just said.

"_Anyway_," Santana says, as she turns to look at Rachel again, eyes full of love, smiles. "Rach, this is what I want to say to you, from the Book of Ruth, Chapter one verses sixteen and seventeen:

"_A donde tú vayas, iré yo;_

_y donde vivas tú, viviré yo._

_Tu pueblo será mi pueblo,_

_y tu Dios será mi Dios._

_Donde tú mueras,_

_yo moriré y seré sepultada._

_¡ Que el SEÑOR me castigue con severidad_

_si no cumplo con esta promesa:_

_sólo la muerte nos separará!"_

Rachel is familiar with the Book of Ruth, the chapter and the verse, and though her Spanish has always been very basic, she does know what Santana has just said. She swallows the lump in her throat, tries to close her eyes to blink away the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. She swallows again and says, apologetically, "San, I'm sorry…I had no idea about this wedding, so I didn't have any words prepared for our wedding vows." When Santana smiles at this and mouths, "It's okay, baby," Rachel smiles more and says, "But allow me to borrow and shamelessly modify W.H. Auden's poem for you. I think _this_ one says it best for me."

"_You are my North, my South, my East and West,  
My working week and my Sunday rest,  
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;  
This is my hope and my wish…that our love will last forever." _

Santana blinks back her own tears, brings up a finger to dab at her eye and smiles. "Rach…" she chokes up.

Tia Evita clears her throat. "May I have the rings." Suzie steps up now with the gold rings on the pillow. "Let us pray," Tia Evita begins. "Bless, O Lord, the giving and receiving of these rings. May Rachel and Santana abide in Thy peace and grow in their knowledge of Your presence through their loving _minion_." Here both Rachel and Santana automatically say, "Union" together, as they gaze at each other. Tia Evita continues, "May the sinless circle of these rings become the symbol of their endless love and serve to remind them of the holy covenant they have entered into today to be faithful, loving, and kind to each other. Dear God, may they live in Your grace and be forever true to this union. Amen."

Santana then leans over to get the ring. She then shows the ring to Rachel and Rachel can see, beautifully engraved in what Rachel could swear looks like Elven script on the inside, her name and Santana's and the words "Never to part".

Santana then smiles, reaches for Rachel's left hand, as she slips the ring onto Rachel's finger, and following Tia Evita's lead, she says, "Rachel, I give you this ring as a symbol of our vows, and with all that I am, and all that I have, I honor you. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. With this ring, I thee wed."

Rachel smiles back and taking hold of Santana's left hand, and slipping the ring on her finger, she says, following Rabbi Cohen's words, "Santana, I give you this ring as a symbol of our vows, and with all that I am, and all that I have, I honor you. I hereby sanctify myself to you with this ring in accordance with the laws of Moses and Israel. HaShem will bind me to you and my descendants to yours for eternity. With this ring, I thee wed."

After the rings are exchanged, Tia Evita proceeds by saying, "Do you, Rachel Marie Berry, take Santana Barbara Lopez, as your awfully wedded wife? For richer or poorer? For better or worse? In sickness and in stealth? Til death do you fart?"

This time, there is a noise by their right side that Rachel cannot decide whether it is a sniffle or a snicker or a bit of both and Rachel sees that Kurt and Sam are both simultaneously tearing up and bursting with mirth. Rachel and Santana exchange a look before turning their attention back to Tia Evita.

"It's…_Barbra_, Tia, not _Marie_," Rachel softly corrects Tia Evita, smiling, then she turns to Santana and says, "I do."

Evita, oblivious, nods. "And do you, Santana _Barbra_ Lopez take Rachel _Marie_ Berry as your awfully wedded wife? For richer or poorer? For better or worse? In sickness and in stealth? Til death do you fart?"

When Rachel hears another noise from their right, she is pretty sure it is a thinly veiled snigger and she glares at both Kurt and Sam.

Santana manages to stare at Tia Evita with an incredulous look on her face. Rachel realizes this is because it was Tia Evita who suggested "Marie" as Santana's middle name, but she sees Santana quickly deciding to ignore this misstep in favor of not disappointing her wife and Santana, instead, smiles and says, clearly to Rachel, "I do".

After they are done exchanging vows, Rabbi Cohen and Tia Evita light the unity candles.

As they light the candles , Tia Evita explains that the two candles represent both their lives, "two distinct lights, each capable of going their separate ways. As you join now in marriage, there is a merging of these two lights into one light."

Tia Evita continues, "From now on your thoughts shall be for each other rather not just your selves. Your plans shall be mutual, your joys and sorrows shall be shared alike. As you each take a candle and together light the center one, you will _distinguish_ your own candles, thus letting the center candle represent the union of your lives into one flesh. As this one light cannot be divided, neither shall your lives be divided but a united testimony in a Christian home. May the radiance of this one light be a testimony of your unity in the Lord Jesus Christ."

Then the guests, Tia Evita and Rabbi Cohen, the wedding entourage watch as the two women light each candle and light the center one. After it is done, Tia Evita does a closing prayer.

Then Tia Evita says, "Now that Santana and Rachel have given themselves to each other by the promises they have exchanged, by the authority invested in me as a minister of the gospel according to the laws of the State of Ohio and Florida, I pronounce you life partners, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spigot. You may now kiss each other."

The guests present erupt in thunderous, delighted applause, as Santana leans over for a chaste kiss on the lips, even as Sam and Carlos let rip an eruption of uncontrollable laughter, Kurt hitting both of them spiritedly in the arms. Quinn, on the other hand, tries in vain not to laugh as she bravely claps for the couple.

A wineglass is placed in front of the couple and before they break it, Rabbi Cohen explains that the breaking the glass and the broken glass is meant to remind everyone of the "destruction of the temple in Jerusalem and all that is broken in this world", even as they celebrate this joyous moment. "For us, this is an important moment to remember the privilege we enjoy by living in a place where our relationship is affirmed by the laws of the state and acknowledged by the community at large. As we jointly break the glass, we remember that life for many other gay couples is not so easy," Rabbi Cohen continues.

When the newly newlyweds break the glass, the applause is deafening as the guests stand up to applaud Rachel and Santana.

* * *

The wedding reception and party is in full swing, the party full of life as Sam, with the help of Mike, take charge of the music and Quinn and Jeffrey take charge of the refreshments and dinner later. "Q's" is catering the wedding reception for the couple. The guests, consisting of Rachel and Santana's parents, Carlos, Carlitos, Max, Tia Evita, Quinn, Jeffrey, Kurt, his drag queen friends Andre, Pepper and Felicia, Mercedes, Tina, McPherson, Paul, Rachel's friend from London, Kate, Kate's mom, Suzie all hop, skip, jump around, hands flailing, as Mike and Sam play music hip-hop, rave, new wave and 80s classics from the makeshift sound system that consists of Mike and Sam's laptops connected to massive speakers.

Rachel thinks the blonde woman she saw before, the one who looks like Anna Farris, was her old professor from NYADA, Tipper Potts, but she realizes, up close that it is just another friend of Kurt's, but Rachel is delighted that everyone she and Santana had ever wanted to celebrate their wedding with was there, the small circle of family and friends that she and Santana have.

There is much cause for celebration, entertainment and a lot of memories made, memories that can be remembered and recalled after, in the privacy of their own home, when they look back at all that has happened during the wedding and reception after, and Rachel is amazed at how organized and well thought out their wedding is. Case in point, Rachel notes, is the fact that Sam and Mike have thought of a comprehensive play list for the whole wedding and wedding reception, and Sam also has, on hand, an iPad which has a kickass electronic keyboard software that allows him to literally play the piano on his iPad for in case anyone should feel the need to sing a song, he says. There are also some back-up music files for those who feel the need to sing and extra hard drives for just such an occasion. There is a Russian official wedding photographer wedding, Boris, to do the photography for them, but Santana, knowing Rachel, had Mercedes and Tina as back-up, unofficial photographers.

Santana and Rachel are now having their photos taken by Boris a few meters from the crowd and the tent, hidden by a small private greenhouse and garden that Mrs. Lopez keeps for herself as a hobby. It is surrounded by cypress and pine trees and the smell of spring flowers and cypress and pine is unmistakable as they stand in front of the photographer, posing, as Ceelo Green's "Forget You" plays in the background.

Boris is stoic, unsmiling, serious, and takes photos with such passion and conviction. Santana had grabbed Rachel for their requisite wedding photos with the family, the parents, the friends, their child, and as a couple, and Rachel and Santana have a hard time keeping straight faces as Boris tells them to stand in front of each other, chest to chest, or back to back, or facing the camera, breasts out, all the while shouting instructions like a true fashion photographer from Milan, strong Russian accent shining through, all rolling "r"s: "You'_rrre_ a minx, Santana!...You're a tige_rrr_, a tige_rrr_, _Rrr_achel…! _Rrr_oar fo_rrr_ me, _rrr_oa_rrr_ fo_rrr _me!...Now give me in love…! Give me…joy!... Show me your pea_rrr_ly whites! Show me some attitude…! Yesss, yesss…Mo_rrr_e cleavage…! Pout fo_rrr_ me, newlyweds! Pout fo_rrr_ me…pout fo_rrr_ me…!"

"Where on earth did you get _this_ one?" Rachel asks as she tries in vain to follow Boris' instructions.

Presently, Boris announces that he is done taking their photographs but the women don't notice him moving off to take a few more photos of the other wedding guests. The song changes and they can hear the first strains of BOB and Bruno Mars' "Nothing on You" playing.

"I'm sorry, baby, Tia Evita knew him and apparently he's a good photographer and stuff," Santana says apologetically. "Don't worry, next time we're keeping my family and Kurt out of the wedding planning. And Quinn. And maybe Sam. And Suzie."

Rachel laughs. But then, as she looks up at Santana, and Santana looks to her, Rachel again remembers that her wife, Santana Lopez, with the help of her, well, officially _their_, family now, helped throw a surprise wedding for her. Then she is quietly overcome with emotion again, and she feels her eyes lightly tear up and through the lump threatening to render her speechless again, she manages to say, "There will be another wedding? I'm kind of just recovering from this one…"

Santana laughs and jokingly says, "Of course! The family's planning our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary and possibly the fiftieth wedding anniversary even as we speak…"

Rachel smiles. There is something about how casually Santana says it that makes Rachel feel like she belongs to this family so unequivocally, so completely and there must be something on her face because Santana suddenly looks at her, all concerned. "Are you okay baby? You're looking all funny and weird again. Normally I can tell what you're feeling just from the look on your face but today, I'm not so sure. You either look like you're going to hurl or you look like you're going to cry. Or possibly both."

Rachel laughs. "San…" she says, voice shaking a bit. "You did this all for me?"

Santana grins, running a hand on her face. "Yes. Mom and Dad were upset about the secret wedding. They were planning this whole wedding renewal thing anyway, but then decided at the last minute it should be our wedding instead of theirs, at their expense mostly. And your parents, too! And mine! Being the _unica hija_ has its perks!"

Rachel smiles now and leans in for a kiss. Santana ducks her head to meet Rachel's lips in a deep, long, soul-shattering kiss and once again, Rachel feels it, the world seemingly falling away, the music, the voices, fading away, and it feels like it is just her and Santana, in the middle of nowhere, kissing each other. Santana's hand comes up to enclose Rachel's waist and pull her toward her, even as Rachel's arms go up to Santana's neck. They are silent for a few moments.

When they break away from the kiss, Santana kisses Rachel's cheek, throat, neck before she engulfs Rachel in a hug and she asks, "So you're not mad?"

Rachel laughs. "Why would I be mad? This is the sweetest, most romantic, most adorable thing you've ever done for me. And that includes your proposal."

She hears Santana sigh then Santana pulls back and says, "I'm so relieved. I was hoping this would get me laid forever." Santana grins. "So I'm guessing everything's on the table, including on the table. And probably the couch. And the kitchen. And the rooftop and the balcony. And the shower. _Especially_ the shower," Santana says. "And possibly in the mornings. And right after midnight."

Rachel laughs.

Then Santana says, "And maybe sometimes, right after lunch."

Rachel laughs some more.

"What?" Santana says, defensively. "I need something…some_one_ warm beneath me or I can't digest my food."

Rachel rolls her eyes, then smiles. "What, you're a lizard now?"

It is Santana's turn to laugh.

"Fine," Rachel says. "You're libido still astounds me. We can start now if you want. I think just for this, a little afternoon delight is definitely in order."

Santana beams. "Really? Because you slept on me again last night. And I definitely needed a little lovin' last night."

Rachel smiles apologetically. "I'm so sorry, honey. I was _so_ tired last night. But I'd like to make it up to you now."

Santana leans over for a kiss. "Bedroom, _now_."

* * *

After they are done with, what Miss Holiday would call a _"nooner"_, Rachel proceeds to the backyard, which is now throbbing with hip-hop music, Jay-Z and Alicia Keys's "Empire State of Mind" playing as their friends, families and guests dance around and chat with each other and eat around the tables prepared just for this occasion. Sam is busy doing the mash potato vigorously as he and Mike scope out the crowd of women. Rachel and Santana have agreed that Santana would wait a few minutes before coming out herself. Sam and Mike smile and nod when they see Rachel approach and Sam promptly hands Rachel a glass of peach-flavored punch from the punch bowl.

When Rachel drinks her punch, there is a strong, strange, bitter alcohol taste added in with the fruit and so she makes her "German-Gollum" strangled barfing in mid-air sound, "Gah!" as Mike and Sam look at each other and laugh.

"What the hell is this?!" she sputters out as she tries as daintily as she can to wipe the punch from her lips.

"I'll tell you what it ain't," Sam says, doing his best southern drawl. "Wine coolers it ain't!"

Mike grins at Rachel. "Does it taste like pink?"

Rachel makes a face. "No."

Mike and Sam laugh some more as Sam opens his jacket and shows Rachel a flask of what seems like liquor.

"Thought the party might need some booze!" Sam says, laughing.

"If you ruin my party, I am so going to kill you," Rachel threatens Sam now.

The laughter dies from Sam's mouth. "Sorry. I swear it's not strong. Please don't tell Santana. She'll kill me."

"Where _is_ Santana anyway?" Mike asks now, looking around.

"Yeah, where _is_ Santana?" Sam asks as well. "And while we're on the subject, why do you guys keep disappearing anyway? Where do you guys go off to?"

Mike is sipping his drink when Sam says this and he almost spits out his drink. "Dude, if you have to ask that, then we all know why you can't get laid."

"Whatever, dude," Sam says, rolling his eyes. He spots a woman talking to Suzie and Kate and his eyes light up.

Rachel follows his gaze and realizes he is checking out Kate's mother. She rolls her eyes. Presently the music changes and it is Mary J. Blige's "Family Affair" and the people young enough to remember the song start to bob their heads up and down and sway their bodies to the music. Rachel reluctantly drinks her punch for lack of something better to do, making her German Gollum "Gah!" sound to the amusement of her friends.

"Dude! Awesome party! Didn't think Santana and Kurt could pull off a wedding all by themselves without killing each other, but…" Sam says now, bobbing his head along to the music. "It was so awesome! Santana and Kurt were like the Avengers! They kind of set aside their differences so they can throw you a kick-ass wedding!"

Mike interrupts, "Fantastic Four, man! Or the Incredibles! Avengers are like, a team, Fantastic Four is a family, man." Mike turns to Rachel now, "And you guys are a family like no other, dude."

Rachel smiles.

"Seriously not looking forward to the new Fantastic Four remake!" Mike mutters now.

"Yeah, with Suzie as, like, the glue that unites the family together!" Sam says now. "Sort of like The Flash in Justice League. Like Brittany used to be when we were all in Glee Club. And right after…when she…"

Sam's voice trails off. Mike grows quiet, shifts on his feet. There is a subtle change in Sam's features as he swallows and blinks a few times and a brief sadness passes through his eyes. Mike suddenly needs to go off to find something or other, muttering about changing the music. Rachel reaches out her hand and squeezes Sam's hand.

"Brittany was special, wasn't she?" Rachel says now, gently.

Sam is quiet for a few minutes before he reluctantly nods and smiles sheepishly at Rachel. Rachel nods. They are silent for a few minutes, just standing there in companionable silence as they both drink their punch. The music stops, too, and all they can hear is the clink of glass and the murmur and buzz of the many different conversations swirling around them.

Presently, Sam speaks up. "It's not like Brittany would've given me a chance though," he says now. "She kind of chose Santana. It was _always_ Santana." He shrugs nonchalantly. "Right after Santana graduated, Brittany went to summer school, got her GED and it took a while for them to be together again, but in the end…"

Rachel doesn't know what to say so she just stands there, awkwardly, holding her glass of punch and sipping from it for lack of something better to do, or say. She wonders why Sam would share this with her now, but she stays silent, not wanting to embarrass Sam.

Sam clears his throat then finishes the almost full glass of punch in his hand. "Sorry," he says, sheepishly, after he downs the glass. "Brittany said something about how she thought she liked horizontal lips but she realized she preferred them all vertical and stuff…and I still don't know what that means…"

Rachel is sipping her drink when Sam says this and she almost spits out her drink and coughs instead.

"Anyway, she chose Santana, so…" Sam says now, absently, shrugging, oblivious to Rachel coughing.

Carlos wanders over to them, as he ladles some punch into his glass and pops some hors d'oevers in his mouth and he catches the tail-end of what Sam is saying and quickly quips, "That's 'cause your idea of romantic gestures, Sam ol' boy, is making Brittany eat Cheerios off the floor during that time she was taking summer school so she could get her GED! And Santana's idea of a romantic gesture, dude, is _this_…" And Carlos throws up his arms and indicates the wedding. "You're a dork, Sam."

"Carlos…" Rachel says now, shaking her head.

"Sorry, Rach," Carlos mumbles.

Presently, the speakers start playing Fatboy Slim, Prodigy, Chemical Brothers, Moby and Leftfield.

Santana comes up to them now, picks a glass up and promptly ladles some punch into it whilst saying, "Everything okay? Is my brother bothering you? 'Cause I can totally beat him up for you, or bring Max and her mad martial arts skills over here."

Rachel laughs. "It's fine."

Santana grins as she takes a step toward Rachel and puts an arm around her. Rachel's own arm automatically comes around Santana's waist.

"Hey Barbra!" Sam greets Santana now, half-jokingly, before he starts laughing, but the murderous look on Santana's face cuts him off. "There you are! Was wondering where you keep disappearing to."

Quinn, Jeffrey carrying Aidan and Suzie come up to them now.

Quinn calmly leans over, and lifts a finger to Rachel's neck and teasingly says, indicating a red spot that has not been concealed by powder, "You missed a spot."

Sam looks at Rachel, who blushes, and as understanding dawns on him, he turns to Santana and says, "You little hound you!"

Santana rolls her eyes as Mike, Sam and Jeffrey laugh and Suzie looks around at the adults wondering what they are all talking about.

Mike laughs. "Imagine if instead of Santana, your name _was_ actually Barbra."

"Hmmm…_Barbra_ Lopez."

"Even worse, _Marie_ Berry."

The guys stop and stay silent as they imagine a world with a Barbra Lopez and a Marie Berry in it, then they all erupt in laughter as Santana glares at them.

"Holy mixed-up names, Batman!" Sam says now, laughing.

Quinn moves up to hit Sam on the head. "You are such a jackass, Sam."

"Ow," Sam says, rubbing his hand on the back of his head. Then his eyes light up as he sees an Asian-looking lady standing near Kate's mother, talking to her. "Ooooh, hot Asian lady. Have got to talk to her."

"Uh, dude," Jeffrey speaks up now, looking uncomfortable. "You know you're my friend and everything, but please stay away from my mother."

Sam looks at Jeffrey now. "Your mom's _Asian?_"

"Japanese," Jeffrey says.

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Yes, because Mike can't possibly be Hispanic just 'cause he looks _Asian_."

Mike laughs. "Anyway, awesome party!" Mike says now. "You still should've gone with the dinosaur-themed wedding though! Like the Flintstones or something!"

Sam brightens up considerably and says, "Hell yeah! Because…"

Then Mike, Sam and Suzie lean over and say, "Dinosaurs!"

Sam says, "T-Rex!"

Mike says, "Stegosaurus!"

Suzie says, "Velociraptors!"

Then they all say, "Saber-toothed cats!"

Sam looks at both Mike and Suzie now and ask, "Favorite dinosaur movie, go!"

Mike says, "'The Land Before Time'!"

Suzie says, "'Ice Age'!"

Then Sam solemnly says, "'Dinosaur', dude!"

Jeffrey joins in, "Dude, the correct answer is 'Jurassic Park'!"

Rachel, Santana and Quinn exchange looks. Santana rolls her eyes as she takes a sip of her punch.

Presently, Kurt, who has been busy the whole time coordinating the program later for the wedding reception, as well as the music and food, wanders over, grabbing a glass and ladling punch into it and asks, "Are you talking about that dinosaur-themed wedding again?" When the boys say nothing he says, "Because if you are, grow up." When the boys start snickering again, Kurt continues, turning to Sam and glaring at him, "And also, you, Sam, laughing during the ceremony, very mature. I mean, seriously, _really_ mature."

Sam laughs now and Rachel can see Kurt getting even more annoyed that he is not getting through to Sam, his face slowly growing red from the exertion.

"Aw, c'mon, Kurt, that ceremony was classic!" Sam says now. "I still can't decide which one is the best out of all that! Your aunt is awesome, Santana!"

Kurt opts to ignore that and instead says, "And Sam, stop hitting on my friends. Felicia, Pepper and André are freaking out. They may not be much, but those are my gay friends and I'd like to request a modicum of respect for them, if you can find it in you to do so. Although Pepper and Felicia find you cute." He rolls his eyes now. "God knows why."

The others now laugh as Sam reddens. "I wasn't…hitting on..."

Kurt just rolls his eyes, takes a sip of his drink and announces he has to go off to continue with the coordinating aspect of the reception.

Before he goes off, Rachel grabs his elbow and says, "Kurt…" Rachel tries to say more, but she finds that she cannot speak for the lump in her throat. She feels overwhelmed that even her best friend would go out of his way to help throw a surprise wedding for her and Santana, and she cannot begin to find the words to express her gratitude to Kurt now.

But Kurt seems to understand and only smiles. "I've…got to go see to some stuff, Rachel. Hope you are enjoying your wedding!"

Just before Kurt leaves, and the others continue to laugh, realization hits Sam and he reddens even more. "Wait…Those are _dudes?!_"

"Hey, homophobe! Watch it!" Santana says now, in between laughter.

"Oooh, Sam's finally coming out!" Mike says, laughing.

"Shut up, dude!" Sam says now.

"Oooh, Sam's got a bad case of the gay panic!" Mike teases him.

"No, I'm no homophobe okay?" Sam says, defensively. "Who do you think I am? _Finn? _Just…those are _dudes?_"

The others laugh again.

"Hey, Suzie! What's the coolest planet ever?" Sam asks now, to change the topic.

Suzie grins. "Ur-_anus_."

Sam, Mike, Jeffrey and Suzie all guffaw together in absolute delight. Aidan gurgles and giggles in Jeffrey's arm.

"Awesome!" Sam says in between laughter. "I can't believe they named a planet with the word '_anus_' in it!"

Rachel, Santana and Quinn stare at the three of them.

"Yeah, keep talking about _anuses_, Sam," Santana says. "Like that's any less _gay_."

Sam stops laughing.

Then Santana looks at both Sam and Mike. "And also, our daughter's _twelve_. What's your excuse?"

Sam and Mike sheepishly say, "Sorry, Santana."

Mike goes to find Tina and Sam moves to talk to Kate's mother, muttering something about needing to prove his masculinity even though Rachel has warned him she is married and could not possibly be interested in him, to which Sam says, "So?" Jeffrey and Quinn go off to make sure the guests are satisfied with the food, with Quinn assuring Rachel, "Don't worry, Rachel, I think vegetarian crap is crap but we did manage to get some for you. Even found some kosher stuff should there be some people interested in that as well."

Dr. and Mrs. Lopez glide over now, and Mrs. Lopez looks at Rachel, grins a big grin, moves in to hug Rachel and says, "_Mija!_ Hope you enjoyed the surprise wedding we threw for you and Santana!"

"Yeah, other parents just give gifts…like a cruise to the Bahamas, or maybe a car, or a house, or maybe a small amount of money to start us off on our merry way," Santana says now, "But my parents? No…they have to _insist_ on throwing a surprise _wedding_."

Rachel laughs, shaking her head at Santana. "What are you talking about, San? I love it! It's wonderful, Mrs. Lo - " Rachel says, hugging Mrs. Lopez back before she realizes she's about to call her mother-in-law Mrs. Lopez again and instead changes it to, "Maaaa'aaam…"

Mrs. Lopez laughs as she pulls back. "Old habits die hard, don't they?"

Rachel looks at her apologetically.

"No matter," Mrs. Lopez says now, smiling. "Just remember, you're my daughter, now, too, so names are just names…I know you've never actually had a mother…and I've always wanted another daughter anyway, so…"

Rachel smiles warmly, not knowing what to say, feeling touched by what Mrs. Lopez has just said.

Mrs. Lopez now looks at Rachel and Santana and comments, "You look beautiful in those dresses, _mijas_. Although you've gotten so thin Rachel. You've got such thin arms! Isn't my daughter taking good care of you?"

"Mom!" Santana says, squirming, embarrassed. She takes a sip of her drink for lack of something better to say.

Mrs. Lopez and Rachel smile as Rachel takes a sip of her drink.

Then Mrs. Lopez shifts and asks, "So, when are you giving us more grandchildren?"

Santana and Rachel almost spit out the drinks they are drinking. Then Santana turns to her wife and sputters, "Can you get her away from me please?"

"What? One must have grandchildren while one's still young and strong enough to hold them," Mrs. Lopez reasons.

"Doesn't Kate count?" Santana asks jokingly.

"Yes, but we want more grandchildren!"

"I already have names, Abuela! Chantal, Tatiana, Anastasia…" Suzie pipes in.

Tia Evita wanders over, overhears the last part of the conversation and asks, "Anaesthesia? Why is the name of your new child Aneasthesia?!"

Mercedes and Tina wander over to refill their drinks and overhears what Tia Evita is saying and they both say, to Rachel, incredulously and excitedly, "You're _pregnant_?" just as the music stops and both their voices carry over the silence that has now descended on the guests so that _everyone_ actually hears it. Suzie goes off to find Kate.

Rachel blushes. "No, no. I'm not," she tries to say, but then Mike and Sam join in and shout, "Rachel's pregnant. Way to go, Santana! Woohoo!" clap and cheer and the rest of the guests join in. General Public's "Tenderness" start playing in the background and Sam and the other boys start dancing around in celebration.

"Oh, _shit_," Santana mutters under her breath now as Carlos comes over, claps Santana on the back and jokingly says, "Wow, my sister scores again! That's my girl, always knocking the girls up!"

Santana glares at him now, before she calmly brings her hand up and hits Carlos on the back of the head.

"Ow!" Carlos says now. "What the hell was that for?"

Santana hits him on the head again. "The second one's for cussin'. The first one is for what you said before."

Carlos rubs his head now.

"Well, with the way you guys are going at it like rabbits, there's bound to be some grandchildren soon." Carlos comments. "I mean, what does '_I want to do with you what spring does to cherry trees_', mean exactly?"

Rachel blushes.

"I know what it means!" Dr. Lopez, who has been silent this whole time, pipes up.

Santana hits Carlos. "And…How did you know about that?"

"I'm sorry _mija_, he read the missent text Rachel mistakenly sent to me that had your message to her, too," Mrs. Lopez says apologetically.

"It's not a text, Mami, it's a _sext!_" Carlos corrects his mother. "That's what Santana calls them. _Sexts_. Say it with me now, _sexts_! Sexy texting. She and Brittany used to send me sexts meant for the other and - " And here Carlos makes a disgusted face. "It was just…_gross_…"

As Santana rolls her eyes, Carlos says, by way of changing the topic, "So, is it true what they say? Is sex better after marriage? Because in my experience, the women say, sex _is_ better after marriage. With me."

Rachel blushes even more as Santana glares at Carlos and hits him on the head again.

Mrs. Lopez sighs. "As you can see, Rachel, my son has this severe case of Tourette's where he just says what he wants to say without thought or regard for what this may indicate about his intelligence," and here she looks at Carlos, "Or lack of it thereof."

Carlos looks at his mother, looking slightly embarrassed. "Mom…" he whines.

"Now, if you can only find someone like Rachel to marry," Mrs. Lopez says to Carlos now. "You've been at home so long _we're_ thinking of moving out."

Santana laughs.

"What? You _want_ me to find a Jewish _lesbian_ wife?" Carlos asks. "Are you _trying_ to make sure I'll die unhappy and unfulfilled?"

Santana laughs some more.

"Better than _your_ father and I dying unhappy and unfulfilled," Mrs. Lopez retorts now.

"Aaaw, mom, _gross_," both Santana and Carlos say as they both make faces whilst Rachel throws back her head and laughs.

Presently, Santana's Abuela wanders over, looks at all of them, and says, more a statement than a question, "You are pregnant."

Everyone is quiet, whether out of shock or surprise or just generally not knowing what to say in front of Santana's Abuela. Nobody seems to have the courage or heart to point out that Rachel is not, in fact, pregnant.

Presently, after a pregnant pause, Santana's Abuela comments, "I don't know what Santana sees in her. She's flat-chested."

Mrs. Lopez says, "Mami!"

Carlos roars with laughter as they watch Santana's Abuela's move off to watch the other guests.

Rachel is speechless. "I don't know if I'm supposed to be insulted by that, or be flattered that she actually even came over to talk to us," Rachel mumbles now.

Santana is also visibly perplexed. She is silent for a while then she looks at her mother and the others. "I'm confused. Is that Abuela kind of offering a peace offering or something?"

Dr. Lopez thinks about it and says, "Seems like it." He pops some hors d'oeuvres into his mouth. "Nothing like mentioning grandchildren to soften an old woman's heart."

"Dad, Rachel's not pregnant," Santana says now.

Dr. Lopez looks at Santana now, a mischievous glint in his eye and a small smile on his lips. "She doesn't have to be."

"Yeah, that never stopped you before!" Carlos pipes in, before he breaks out in another fit of laughter. "And also, not to be disrespectful or anything, but the first wife was also kind of flat-chested, too!"

Santana glares at Carlos now, before she hits him upside on the head again. "You are such an asshole, Carlos."

Carlos only laughs. Santana rolls her eyes now.

Sam wanders over to them now and declares, in front of Santana and Rachel, "Santana, Rachel, Kate's mom used to be a dude."

Santana and Rachel stare at Sam. "Yes, so?"

Sam stares at them. "So…? You knew about this?"

Santana rolls her eyes. "Not to be a jerk about this, but we didn't think it was any of our business or yours who Kate's mom used to be prior to today." Santana smiles now. "And also, why do you think we all get along so well?"

"But she used to be a dude," Sam says now.

Santana smirks. "Watch it homophobe!"

"I am _not_ a homophobe!" Sam mutters now as he goes off somewhere.

"Oooh, evil father-in-laws, twelve o'clock," Carlos whispers now before he moves off to another part of the garden.

The Lopez parents also suddenly seem nowhere to be found as Rachel and Santana suddenly find themselves standing in front of Rachel's parents. Santana makes to leave them alone, but Rachel grabs her hand and pulls her back.

"Rachel…" Santana says uncertainly.

"Don't go," Rachel says softly. "Please stay."

* * *

The talk with the Berrys go better than either Rachel or Santana expect, meaning it is as civil as they can ever hope for, although there is a bit of momentary awkwardness at first as they all stand around by the punch bowl, shifting from one foot to the other as Rachel holds on to Santana's right hand with her on left hand. "You Spin Me Around" is playing in the background.

"Lovely ceremony," Hiram finally says after a few moments.

"Lovely ceremony," Leroy echoes.

"Although we could've done without that woman bungling up the ceremony like that," Hiram comments now. "It was terrible."

"Terrible," Leroy echoes.

"I mean she said 'Holy Gout'," Hiram points out.

"And 'Holy Spigot'," Leroy says.

"That's Santana's aunt," Rachel says now, as she grips Santana's hand tighter in her hand. She can feel her face heat up, feel her heart race a bit faster, feel this anger at her fathers for saying these things now.

"Oh," the Berry men say at the same time.

"And what do you care anyway, you're Jewish, not Christian," Rachel says now, through gritted teeth. "I should think whether Tia Evita got those things right or not shouldn't even matter to you."

There is a silence again. She feels Santana shift beside her and she knows that Santana is not only feeling uncomfortable, but also restless, and perhaps suddenly wanting to be anywhere but right here, in front of Rachel's fathers. She feels the same way.

"So…uh…you're pregnant," Hiram says now.

Rachel pulls her lips into a tight line. "No, I'm not, dad."

Whether that is disappointment on her father's face or not, Rachel does not know, but she stays quiet and Santana chooses to remain silent as well.

"We thought you were pregnant," Leroy says now. "Your friends said…"

Rachel shakes her head. "No, dad. I'm not."

There is another silence.

"But do you have…uh…plans…of having children...anyway?" Hiram asks hesitantly, uncertainly and a little hopefully, Rachel notes.

Rachel shrugs, raises her eyebrows, says, "We…" she looks at Santana now for confirmation, "Haven't decided yet…we're still…deciding whether we want to…or not…"

"Oh," both the Berrys say again, voices sounding disappointed, faces simultaneously crestfallen. It would have been comical, had it not been for the fact that it is her fathers.

They are all silent again.

"You included the Jewish wedding ceremony," Hiram says now, addressing Santana for the first time. "That was…interesting."

"Interesting," Leroy echoes now.

Santana smiles tightly and only nods in acknowledgement. Rachel cannot make out her expression or what she is thinking. Santana has that lawyer look on her face now, the impassive, inscrutable one, and Rachel is worried her fathers are going to say something that will offend her.

"I mean…it could have been better if…"

"Oh my god, Dad!" Rachel says now, interrupting her father. "You come to my wedding and criticize Tia Evita and how the Jewish part of the wedding was conducted? Really, Dad, _really?_"

Everyone falls silent again. Mercifully Quinn, Mercedes and Tina call Santana and Santana turns to Rachel, face impassive, but expressive dark eyes begging Rachel to just let her go. Rachel nods and Santana excuses herself with a sigh of relief. Erasure's "A Little Respect" starts playing in the background.

The Berrys all stand around by the punch table not saying anything before Rachel speaks up.

"Dad, if you can't say anything nice about this wedding," Rachel begins, "This wedding that Santana and her family threw for me, I'd rather you not stay at this wedding at all." When she sees her fathers' hurt expressions, Rachel says, "I'm sorry, I love you guys, but I don't want you ruining this for me or for Santana and her family. We're married, just…deal with it. And get over it."

"Funny, that's what your…uh…partner said, too," Hiram says softly now.

"What?" Rachel asks.

"Santana," Hiram says. "That's what she said, when she and her father and mother came to ask for your hand in marriage."

"Quite the interesting experience that one," Leroy comments.

"Interesting is right," Hiram agrees.

"But you have to admit, she did it better than that man who married our daughter ever did," Leroy points out. "Or Finn."

Hiram makes a face. "Quite right. Quite right."

"Santana asked for my hand in marriage?" Rachel asks now.

"Well, yes," Hiram says. "I mean, technically, you were already married anyway, so I guess it was just a formality, but…yes…"

There is another silence.

"You got married in New York," Leroy says now, saying it like both a statement, a confirmation, an uncertain question, as if afraid Rachel would be upset again.

"Yes, I did," Rachel says. "_We_ did."

"Without telling us," Hiram says.

"Yes, without telling us," Leroy echoes.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Hiram and Leroy ask at the same time.

"And…all the things that have been happening to you in New York…" Hiram says now. "The problems at school, the Glee Club, the protests, the news…meeting the President of the United States? That's big!"

"Huge!" Leroy says. "And while we're at it, why haven't you been calling? Or keeping us in the loop?"

Rachel sighs. "Because, knowing you guys, you'd probably have hatched some scheme like faking your own deaths to delay the wedding. Like that time when I was about to marry Finn." When the Berrys make to protest, Rachel adds, "I'm sorry I haven't been in touch, but it's been busy and hectic and you never liked Santana anyway…and Suzie, too…never once asked about them in all the time I've been with her, in all those times I've ever visited you…it's like she doesn't even exist to you. The first and last time we all had dinner together…you managed to make everyone feel uncomfortable and embarrassed…and you said all those awful things last Christmas about her…"

The two elder Berrys are quiet now, looking at anywhere else, on the grounds, to the side, above, anywhere but at Rachel's face. "I mean, I love her. Can't you see that? I love her. I don't think that's going to change anytime soon. I'm in it for life with her, dad. And dad."

"We're…we're sorry," Hiram says now. "We've been awful, we know…"

"Awful…" Leroy echoes.

"Nothing we do will probably ever make it up to you," Hiram says now. "But…we get points for trying, yes?"

"Yes, we get points for those, yes?" Leroy asks.

"I mean…we're old, old men, pumpkin," Hiram says. "Set in our ways."

"Set in our ways," Leroy echoes.

"We know we're old-fashioned, judgmental…bitches."

"Very."

"It's hard for us to…uh…accept our daughter has…grown up so much…"

"So much…"

"Hard to accept she's all grown up and living her own life and making her own decisions and just…being the kind of woman we hoped she would be…"

"We…just wanted…_still_ want what's best for you, Rachel," Leroy says now.

"We just want you happy," Hiram finishes now.

"And if Santana makes you happy," Leroy says, "Then…I guess nothing else matters."

"Even if she isn't Jewish."

"And she says she has no interest in converting."

"And she does have that mouth on her."

"We frankly don't know what you see in her," Leroy admits now, "Although I guess her side of the family wonders what she sees in you, too."

Rachel rolls her eyes.

"But…our therapist says we need to deal with this, too," Hiram finishes.

"Dad…" Rachel says now, suddenly not wanting to know what will come next after that statement.

"I mean, we've been having…intimacy problems," Leroy reveals now.

"Dad…!" Rachel says now, panic unmistakable in her voice as she tries to block out whatever else her fathers are going to say.

"Oh, don't get us wrong, we can still…satisfy each other," Hiram adds.

"_Dad…!_" Rachel attempts again, horrified, as she makes a face and makes to shake her head to make them stop talking about their intimacy problems.

"But we've been arguing lately about how best to deal with you and Santana being together," Leroy adds, "And our sex life has been suffering as a result…"

"The thing is…we can't really be truly intimate with each other again unless we deal with this…according to our therapist…"

Rachel now looks positively mortified. "I'm not hearing this…la-la-la-la…" Rachel says, putting her hands to her ears and shaking her head. Through her horror though, she says, "Scarred for _life_. That was just way too much information for me, dad."

"Sorry," the two Berrys say sheepishly.

"We're not going to promise to get one hundred percent on board with this ship," Hiram says.

"It'll take time," Leroy says.

"And a little getting used to," Hiram says.

"But…if she makes you happy…and she seems to," Leroy admits.

"And she seems to be good for you, if her love and support ends up making you meet the president and everything," Hiram says.

"And that's enough for us," Leroy finishes.

Rachel now smiles. "Okay."

Rachel's fathers move to hug Rachel. Rachel hugs them back.

"We do hope you would consider having a baby though," Hiram says.

"Yes," Leroy says. "And if it's not too much ask…might we suggest naming the child after us?"

Rachel rolls her eyes and closes them, shaking her head in disbelief, thinking how much of a nightmare this whole baby thing is.

* * *

When Rachel recounts the edited version of her conversation with her fathers to Santana during the wedding reception dinner later, Santana laughs in delight. They are seated at a table with Suzie, Kate, their parents, Carlos, Carlitos, Rachel's parents, Santana's Abuela, while their other friends and family are seated at other tables as people make toasts to the newlyweds from their tables, with Kurt as host. Dr. Lopez is busy doing impersonations of Gregory Peck, John Wayne, Humphrey Bogart and Clark Gable to the delight of Suzie and the other guests, whilst Mrs. Lopez is busy rolling her eyes. The older Berrys seem a little less uncomfortable as they watch the events unfold.

"They've been having _intimacy_ problems?" Santana whispers now, with noticeable relish and amusement.

"I tell you all these things about my dads and how I think they're finally coming around to us being together, and all you pick up from that is that my parents are having intimacy problems?" Rachel whispers back, annoyed.

Santana stops laughing. "Sorry, baby."

Rachel rolls her eyes.

"It's not funny," Rachel says.

"It's a little funny," Santana says, grinning.

"I can't believe you got my parents to come," Rachel says now, as she takes a sip of the wine.

Suzie interrupts, leaning over and saying, "Oh, mom was pretty bad ass about it. She told them, 'Look, you don't need to accept me and Suzie in your daughter's life. But you do need to respect her decision. I married your daughter, and I'm marrying her again. Deal with it.'"

"You said that?" Rachel asks Santana now, incredulous, as a slow smile spreads on her face. Then she turns to Suzie, "Language, sweetie," to which Suzie mumbles a "Sorry".

"Well, not _exactly_ like that, but yeah, sort of," Santana says now, embarrassed.

Presently they hear Kurt over the microphone saying,"… And now may we call on Suzie, Santana and Rachel's daughter, please, for her speech?"

Rachel knits her brows and looks to Suzie as the girl stands up, suddenly all nervous as she takes the microphone handed to her. She leans over to Santana and asks, "What's she going to do?"

Santana shrugs. "I don't know. We made a deal. The only thing she promised was that it was going to be strictly Disney appropriate, whatever she is going to do."

Suzie now holds the microphone close to her lips as she takes a deep breath and says, "Hello everyone." The audience greet her with a friendly good-natured "Hello!" of their own and Suzie smiles nervously. The girl continues. "Mom says I could make this speech because we had a trade - I could make a speech because she didn't want a dinosaur wedding - " here, Rachel and Santana can hear Sam, Mike and Jeffrey all say, "Dinosaurs! Hoo-haha!" as everyone laughs and Rachel, Santana and Kurt roll their eyes - "Because Mommy and I loved dinosaurs…and also dolphins and ducks…So here I am!"

Suzie pauses now, swallows as she looks around at the guests, then at her mothers. Then she continues, quietly, steadily, "There's this book, 'The Little Prince' that my Mommy Britt used to read to me when I was little. We just made a play about it at school. I really like this book because it reminds me of my Mommy and she told me once that whenever I see wheat fields and sunsets, like in the book, that I should think of her, too, because of her hair and everything…because she has hair the color of wheat fields and sun…That's why I like trains because I get to think of Mommy all the time and that's why I like trains going to Ohio."

Everyone goes quiet now as they listen to Suzie.

"I still miss my Mommy, sometimes," Suzie continues matter-of-factly. "But I think she's in a happy place and she told me it was going to be okay anyway, because some day, when I'm old and gray, I'll see her again…I think she's happy because Mom is happy now, too. I promised Mommy I'd take care of Mom for her and I promised her I'd make sure Mom was happy, too." Here she looks at Santana and smiles a mischievous smile. "Not gonna lie to you though, taking care of Mom is _hard_ and it can be _infiltrating_ sometimes," here Rachel wonders what she means by that and realizes what Suzie means is "infuriating", as Suzie continues, "But she is awesome and I'm so glad she's happy."

The guests smile fondly at what Suzie is saying, finding this little, blonde, blue-eyed child adorable. She then goes on, "Anyway, what I like most about this story? Is the story of the Little Prince and the rose and the fox and the prince. I thought it was a nice story. I didn't think it meant anything more because honestly, I think the prince's relationship with the rose and fox was really weird…and just _weird_…"

The audience laugh as Suzie makes a face.

"But then Mom and Mee got together and I kind of understood what it meant," Suzie says now. "Mom is kind of like the fox and Mee kind of tamed her. During those times when we were still in California and Mee was in New York, Mee was all patient and loving and stuff with Mom, coming for a visit all the time, and I think Mom was freaked out at first, because of Mommy I think, but then Mom kind of started looking forward to those visits and the visits became longer and longer and more frequent and then Mom kind of started smiling more and more, and not just when Mee is around but long after Mee left. And then Mom started humming, then singing…like she was hearing some music from the other room or something…and I hadn't heard Mom sing in a while…especially after Mommy…"

The room has suddenly gone deathly quiet as Suzie's voice trails off. Suzie seems momentarily overcome with emotion. It is a rare occasion that Suzie becomes emotional when talking about her late mother, but Rachel feels, just from looking at Suzie's dark blue green eyes, eyes as expressive as Santana's, that there is also much happiness and joy there, too, for her mom and for Rachel. Rachel gives their daughter an encouraging and very proud smile. Suzie looks at her and Rachel can see Suzie's eyes mist over a little. Out of the corner of her eye, Rachel can see that people around their table and possibly the other guests from the other tables seem visibly touched by what Suzie is saying. She can see that some are growing misty-eyed. She feels herself tear up as well. There is, again, a lump forming in her throat. She glances over at Santana and Santana looks at her with the same teary eyes, as she moves to hold Rachel's hand and gives it a squeeze. Suzie, she thinks, is the most wonderful daughter anyone, stepmother or not, could ever have. She has this sudden urge to stand up, grab Suzie and just hug her tightly, too.

"And Mee…Mee is kind of like the rose, all beautiful and kind of…fragile as well, but also really strong and stuff, but as Uncle Sam once said, high maintenance - I don't know what that means - " here Carlos, Mike and Sam laugh, and Carlos says, "Go Suzie!" as Santana rolls her eyes and Rachel blushes and Suzie continues, "but Mom took care of her like the Prince took care of his rose and she watered and tended her and kind of made sure no wind or rain would upset her and…And they've been through a lot, my Mom and my Mee and I see how they have loved and taken care of each other for five years and how they took really good care of me. I mean, when you lose one of your parents, then finding a new one is kind of like the Holy Grail for you. And I am glad that I found my Mee. I'm pretty sure Mom is extremely glad, too. And I look at other people and how I can't really imagine any other person for my Mom now, because yeah, I think there are so many other beautiful roses out there, but they are all empty. I don't think I would go to hell and back for them like I would for my Mom and my Mee, just 'cause they _are_ my mothers."

Suzie now turns to her mothers, pauses and smiles. "So, Mom, Mee, can I just say how happy I am that you are _finally_ married? I kind of knew the moment I saw you together that time before when Mom and I were here for Christmas that you were perfect for each other…you just didn't know it yet…" and here Suzie grins, "Because I think the best kind of love is the love that's kind of like friendship that's caught fire. And just remember, what is essential is invisible to the eye. It is only with the heart that one sees rightly. And that you are responsible for each other now, because you are responsible for what you've tamed forever. Congratulations Mom, Mee! I love you both!"

The guests applaud Suzie's speech heartily, with a few wiping tears from their eyes as Rachel gets up, holds out her arms and Suzie comes to her, wrapping her hands tightly around Rachel. Santana gets up and hugs both of them, too, as the audience keep clapping for the three.

"You are _awesome_, do you know that?" Rachel murmurs as Suzie pulls back from the hug.

Suzie grins back. "I know."

Rachel laughs as she, Santana and Suzie take their seats whilst the microphone is given to Dr. Lopez. Dr. Lopez stands up and says, "There's really not much to say, my granddaughter already said it all so beautifully. So I just want to say, we might all be from different worlds, yet we somehow fit together, through fair or strong weather, love is what binds us." Then, Dr. Lopez looks at Rachel, smiles and says, "Rachel, you're one of us now - " here, Carlos, Tia Evita and Carlitos chant, "One of us, one of us!" then they laugh as Dr. Lopez raises his glass and says - "And we'd like to say, welcome to the family. To the bride and…bride!"

The others follow suit, raise their glasses, and Rachel and Santana raise theirs, "To the bride and bride!"

A few minutes later, Kurt announces the traditional wedding dance and Rachel and Santana smile as they dance with their fathers, then as they dance with each other, the music changes, and Rachel realizes it's Chantal Kreviazuk's "Feels Like Home".

"_Somethin' in your eyes, makes me wanna lose myself  
Makes me wanna lose myself, in your arms  
There's somethin' in your voice, makes my heart beat fast  
Hope this feeling lasts, the rest of my life…"_

"So is this our song now or something?" Rachel says now as she wraps her arms around Santana's neck and Santana puts her hands, warm and gentle on Rachel's waist.

Santana chuckles as she pulls Rachel closer to her. "Maybe. If you want."

Rachel laughs now.

"_It feels like home to me, it feels like home to me  
It feels like I'm all the way back where I come from  
It feels like home to me, it feels like home to me  
It feels like I'm all the way back where I belong…"_

Rachel leans on Santana now and says, "Yes, it's true. You are _so_ getting laid forever."

Santana grins. "Awesome!" she says. "I like the sound of that!"

Once the dance is over, Kurt goes to the microphone again and says, "And, before we continue, we kind of worked round the clock to get all of this together but we have one more thing to show you guys…we hope you enjoy…"

As Rachel wonders what other _thing_ they have in store for her and Santana, images suddenly spring to life on the front, where a projector hooked up to Sam's laptop and a makeshift screen has been set up and Rachel doesn't understand it at first until she sees, one by one, co-workers, actors, a producers, a couple of directors, her former assistant Poppy, a few other friends from Broadway and NYADA all congratulating her and Santana on their wedding.

"Sandbags!" Coach Sue says, by way of introduction, leaning over to peer at the camera. "And Manhands! Never thought I'd see the day both of you actually get together, get married and spawn. I frankly don't understand this need to get married and reproduce, I don't have the time myself for such pointless endeavors, but I wish you both the best of luck. Congratulations!"

"Congratulations, Rachel, Santana!" a perpetually bewildered Mr. Schuester in his trademark vest, hair gone slightly gray at the temple and sides, says to the screen as Mrs. Schuester, formerly Emma Pillsbury, sitting beside him, waves to both of them.

"Hey, you two! You alright? So sorry I couldn't make it to your wedding. Life has been busy at West End and I'm always quite knackered at the end of the day, but so happy you guys finally got married! Congratulations and I wish you all the best!" Poppy gaily says into the camera.

The President of the United States suddenly pops up in what seems to be the restroom and from the way the camera seems shaky, a little out of focus and taken from a height lower than the President, that it was taken by Suzie. Rachel can see tiles in the background and the President's voice echoes inside the room. Rachel is surprised by the video.

"Hello, Miss Berry, Miss…" here the President pauses, and Rachel can hear Suzie's voice whispering, "Lopez!" from behind the camera and the President grins and says, "Miss Lopez. Miss Berry, your significant other, daughter, family and friends are apparently throwing you a surprise wedding and I must say, that's the most romantic thing I have ever heard. Your significant other is a keeper, Miss Berry! Hold on to that one! Anyway, I wish you all the best and congratulations on your wedding!" the President says now. "Oh, and also, I think Blue is absolutely a pretty name for your child!"

The audience laugh as the President says this last part and Rachel feels herself flush as she hears this last part.

Then, the video fades out and fades in again as the unmistakable face of Shelby Corcoran, Rachel's birth mother comes on. Shelby smiles for the camera and says, "Hi, Rachel, Santana! So sorry I'm not there to attend your wedding. Santana did invite me but I was just too tied up with work to attend, but I'll make it up to you guys when I'm in New York. Didn't really think my daughter and one of my best singers from Trouble Tones would get together, but I can't think of anyone else that would be perfect for Rachel. I've seen how you took care of that other Trouble Tone, Santana, and I know you'll take good care of Rachel, too. Congratulations on your wedding and I wish you all the best!"

Then suddenly, Tipper Potts pops on the screen. Rachel is equally surprised.

"Hello, Miss Berry," Tipper Potts says now, waving at the screen. "I am sorry I couldn't make it to your wedding. As you can see, I am in India right now, and I am actually having a ball here. But I just want to say congratulations on your wedding and I've been hearing a lot of good things about you. I always knew that out of all the students at NYADA, you had the most potential for greatness. And I don't mean greatness like fame and fortune, but greatness in terms of making a difference, of making an impact, of leaving the world a better world than when you first set foot on it. I am glad that you finally listened to your heart and did what you really wanted. You've taken the most meaningful journey in your life - the journey within. And I can see that it has been a most fulfilling one for you. Just remember, your life is yours to live intentionally. I am very proud of you. Good luck with the next leg of your journey and may the universe keep unfolding for you as it should be."

Rachel smiles as she sees Tipper Potts waving and as Santana comes up to hug her from behind, Rachel asks, "How did you even get my teacher to leave us a message?"

Santana smiles. "You forget we're friends with the two biggest geeks in the world. They were the ones who were able to track down your teacher for us. I know how much she means to you, so I thought maybe she should leave a message or something. And also, she left her number and email, said you should get in touch with her when she's back stateside."

Rachel smiles. "And you got Shelby and the President of the United States to leave us a message?"

Santana grins. "In my defense, apparently Suzie cornered the President in the restroom when she had to 'tinkle'."

Rachel laughs, touched by this gesture from her spouse, her child, her friends and family.

Then, the Beatz come on in the video.

"Miz B!"

"Captain!"

"What's up!"

"What's happenin'?"

"Heard Miz L loves you so much she married you _twice!_"

"Hey Miz L! Yo, Shrub! What up, girl?"

Suzie waves at them, the Beatz wave back and Rachel realizes the video is live and not pre-recorded. Rachel feels touched by the gesture and she smiles and waves at the Beatz.

"So we kind of got together and put it to a vote, and we decided Blue would be the best name for your baby!"

"Totally!"

"And if it's not too much to ask, can we sing while you're giving birth?"

The Beatz laugh as one of them says, "Just kidding, Miz B!" and Rachel's face stays a warm, deep red.

Then Gloria comes on and says, "Congrats, you guys! On your honeymoon, try to act surprised!"

The Beatz laugh again as Rachel shakes her head in embarrassment.

Zee now steps up and says, "So sorry we couldn't make it to your wedding, but we couldn't afford to go…although Miz L offered to pay for our fare, but we be thinkin' that's too much. But it's okay! We got something for you! Hit it, you guys!"

And then the Beatz take their positions and start singing "Can't Take My Eyes Off of You" a capella,

"_You're just too good to be true_

_Can't take my eyes off of you_

_You feel like heaven to touch_

_I wanna hold you so much_

_As long as love has arrived_

_And I thank god I'm alive _

_You're just too good to be true_

_Can't take my eyes off of you…"_

Suddenly, from behind the Beatz, a burst of trumpets, trombones, cymbals and drums blast the rest of the beat of the song and the camera pans out to show the Taft High school marching band in complete uniform, along with the rest of Rachel's former literature students, and they continue singing the song. Rachel watches her students and colleagues perform for her and Santana.

Once they are done with the song, the band starts playing Marvin Gaye's "How Sweet it is to be Loved By You " and the Beatz start singing the song,

"_How sweet it is to be loved by you_

_How sweet it is to be loved by you…"_

Then, Zee looks to the camera and says, "Take it away, Miz L!" and as the Beatz harmonize in the background, on the screen, Kurt hands Santana the microphone and she starts singing the song,

"_I needed the shelter of someone's arms_

_And there you were_

_I needed someone to understand my ups and downs_

_And there you were_

_With sweet love and devotion_

_Deeply touching my emotions_

_I wanna stop and thank you baby_

_I wanna stop and thank you baby_

_How sweet it is to be loved by you…"_

Then Santana and the Beatz start singing the song together, as Santana encourages the guests to clap to the beat of the song, which the guests gamely do so, as Rachel looks around at family and friends smiling and clapping and giving her and Santana the thumb's up sign. She smiles back at them.

"_How sweet it is to be loved by you_

_How sweet it is to be loved by you…"_

When they all finish the singing, they say, "All yours, Miz L!"

Then Santana talks on the microphone, and says, "Rach, Suzie requested, nay, insisted that we do this, because it was either that or the dinosaur wedding, so, I hope you like it."

Then, as the camera pans out of the video and Rachel is shown the Beatz, Gloria, Mr. Smith and her students from her classes, plus the Taft High marching band. The Taft High marching band starts beating the drums, Quinn steps up to the microphone, joined by Santana and Suzie, and the first strains of The Supremes' "Come See About Me" starts to play. Santana, Suzie and Quinn start swaying their hips, dancing in sync around the grounds as Quinn starts singing, with Santana and Suzie as backing vocals,

"_I've been crying  
'Cause I'm lonely (for you)  
Smiles have all turned to tears  
But tears won't wash away the fears  
That you're never ever gonna return  
To ease the fire that within me burns…"  
_

Then as Rachel watches, the video camera pans out from the screen and The Beatz, Gloria, , her students, the Taft High marching band on the football field, following Quinn, Santana and Suzie's dance. Then, the people around her start standing up as well, and joining Quinn, Santana and Suzie dancing, making it a virtual flash mob just for her. The Beatz and the others serve as backing vocals as they dance whilst Quinn and Santana sing the song.

"_It keeps me crying baby for you  
Keeps me sighin' baby for you  
So won't you hurry  
Come on boy, see about me  
(Come see about me)  
See about you baby…"_

Rachel sees Sam, Mike, Mercedes, Tina, Jeffrey, Kate, Kate's mom, Jeffrey's mom, Boris the photographer, Dr. Lopez, Mrs. Lopez, Carlos, Carlitos, Kurt, Kurt's friends, and even Rachel's parents, the Berrys, all dancing the dance for Rachel.

"_I've given up my friends just for you  
My friends are gone  
And you have too  
No peace shall I find  
Until you come back  
And be mine  
No matter what you do or say  
I'm gonna love you anyway…"  
_

As she watches how comical Sam, Jeffrey, Dr. Lopez, Carlos and the Berrys dance, Rachel starts to smile, her hand coming up to her chest, then she doesn't know it but she starts laughing as well and looks at Santana, and Santana smiles and mouths, "I love you" to her. Rachel smiles herself and mouths, "I love you, too."

_"Keeps me crying baby for you  
Keep on, keep on crying baby for you  
So won't you hurry  
Come on boy, see about me (Come see about me)  
See about you baby (Come see about me)  
You know I'm so lonely (Come see about me)  
I love you only (Come see about me)  
See about your baby (Come see about me)  
Hurry, hurry"_

As the song finishes and everyone stops dancing and singing, everyone claps and then, Kurt comes to the microphone and says, "Okay, let it rip, Carlos!"

"You betcha! Woohoo!" Carlos, who has suddenly disappeared from the flash mob, shouts back and in a few minutes, the early spring evening sky is exploding with fireworks that everyone applauds, "Ooohing" and "Aaahing" as each one explodes the night sky, fountains, flowers, ribbons of spark, stars and light illuminating the early spring night sky.

When Santana comes up to Rachel and puts her arm around her and plants a kiss on Rachel's cheek, Rachel looks up at the sky, then at Santana and in surprise, says, "You did this, too?"

Santana grins, "Just one more trade I had with Suzie and the others." As another one explodes in the sky, Santana grins sheepishly again, and says, "And…we were kind of watching _way_ too much World Wrestling Federation episodes, too, sorry. Too much?"

Rachel laughs then she puts a hand on Santana's face and pulls her gently towards her for a kiss. "No, never. I think it's perfect. Everything's perfect. I can't say which one I loved the most. And have I told you how much I love you?"

Santana grins. "Yes. But never stop telling me that."

Rachel smiles and hugs her. "I don't even know how to thank you for this."

Santana grins. "I'm sure I'll think of something." Then she holds Rachel tightly and plants a kiss on her cheek.

"I think I'm going to love you forever," Rachel says, hugging her back.

* * *

Later, when all the guests have gone on home, and Merlott and a few other staff from "Q's" have quickly cleared up and cleaned up the Lopezes' backyard so that the only thing left are tables and chairs that will be picked up the day after, the stage, which will be dismantled the next day, and the big tent.

Meanwhile, the men, Sam, Mike and Jeffrey have built a bonfire just at the edge of the tent, with Sam imitating Tom Hanks in "Castaway", beating his chest and saying, "I have made fire! I have made fire!" and the others saying, "Woo-hoo!"

"You guys are dorks," Quinn announces as she takes a seat beside her husband after putting Aidan to sleep in the Lopez living room, where an old wooden crib has been set up just for him and the older Lopezes are watching over him. Suzie and Kate are also sharing the attic, resting.

Sam, Mike and Jeffrey just laugh. They have taken off their bowties, unbuttoned their shirts, whilst still keeping their jackets on. They all seem a bit wasted as well, but insisted they wanted to hang out with the girls a bit more as the opportunity to get together is not as frequent as everyone wants it to be. The women sigh and agree. Rachel and Santana have changed clothes to be more comfortable, whilst Quinn borrowed a pair of jeans and a tee shirt as well. Mercedes and Tina are still wearing their gowns.

Presently, the boys are arguing as to who is the best Catwoman, as they congregate around the bonfire for warmth. The fire crackles and snaps, the flames dancing, leaping around in the darkness, casting shadows around the camp fire, illuminating Rachel, Santana and their friends in a warm glow.

"Halle Berry!" Mike says.

"Michelle Pfeiffer!" Sam says.

"I'm sorry, but the correct answer to that is Anne Hathaway!" Jeffrey says.

The girls roll their eyes as Sam says, "Yeah, if you like your superheroes looking bug-eyed and emaciated!"

"She's hot though!" Jeffrey says now.

"True!" Mike agrees, as the girls glare at them.

"You know what would be better than a dinosaur wedding?" Sam says now.

"What?" Mike asks.

"A superhero wedding!" Sam declares triumphantly.

The girls, again, roll their eyes.

"Of course you think that," Quinn says now sarcastically.

The boys laugh as Sam says, "Oh, but it would be totally awesome!"

"Yes, because there's absolutely nothing wrong with fully grown men wearing briefs outside tights and _capes_," Quinn says.

"Well, there's actually a name for that," Sam says now. "And the name for that is…"

And here Mike and Sam lean over and shout, at the same time, "Comic Con!"

They laugh as the girls shake their heads at them and Sam recovers enough from laughing to say, to Rachel, "Hey, dude, if you ever need help with baby names I can totally go over my collection of DC and Marvel comic books to give you the best name!"

Mike leans over and says, "Yet another reason why he can't get laid!"

Sam says, "Whatever, dude!" Then he turns back to Rachel again and says, "Jean! Like Jean Grey! Wolverine! Colossus! Storm! Phoenix! Cerebro!"

Mike interrupts and says, "DC is best! You can get a name from any of the Justice League team members! Hal! Shahira! Bruce! Diana! Clark!"

Sam interrupts and says, "Yes, but they sound a bit gay, though. I mean, Bruce? Really gay! We should totally go with the people from the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen! Mina! Solomon! Jekyll! Or Hyde! Nemo! Dorian!"

Mike laughs. "Dorian? That sounds gayer than Bruce! We could totally go with Neil Gaiman's characters! Coraline! Yvane! Tristran!"

"Zorg!" Sam says now.

"Zorg?" Mike asks.

"Or George!" Sam says now. "So, like, if it's a boy, and they put him in the nursery, and indicate whether he's a boy or a girl, he could be _Boy_ George!"

"Or, even better! George _Michael!_" Mike says.

"George Michael?" Santana asks as she knits her eyebrows. "Sorry you guys. Rachel has declared a moratorium on superhero names. And pretty much anything geeky really. So no comic book names. Or Zorg…whatever that is…or Boy George or George Michael."

"Aaaw," Sam and Mike both say dejectedly as Rachel smiles and shakes her head.

"And also dude, you are _so_ whipped!" Sam says now, miming the action for whipped. "And also, how _do_ you water and tend to Rachel?"

Santana scowls at him and flips him off. "You are such a jack ass." Santana now quirks up her lips in a smile and pulling Rachel closer, she says, by way of changing the subject, "Anyway, I kind of like the name Blue."

"Blue?" Sam and Mike ask together.

"What are you, Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee?" Santana asks, rolling her eyes.

Kurt, looking all haggard and exhausted, sits beside the girls with a sigh.

"I am so exhausted," Kurt announces now, loosening his bow tie.

"Aaaw," Rachel says, putting out a hand and rubbing a hand over Kurt's back. "You okay?"

Kurt nods.

"Thank you, for this," Rachel says now, gesturing to the backyard.

Kurt smiles again and nods.

Mrs. Lopez comes out to bring coffee for the men and women, announcing that there will be no more booze tonight, "Or at least cut down on the booze" she says as she hands out a couple of large flasks of coffee and coffee cups before going back in.

The girls all gratefully take the coffee as they shiver slightly in the spring night.

Carlos appears now, brandishing a guitar and grinning at everyone. "So, since your Glee Club all seems to be here, how's about a little jam session for old times' sake?" he asks with a grin.

"Oooh, guitar!" Sam says now as he gets the guitar from Carlos.

He starts to strum the guitar, and Rachel realizes it's Simon and Garfunkel's "Homeward Bound".

"Take it away Quinn!" Sam says now.

Quinn smiles as she starts singing,

"_I'm sittin' in the railway station__  
Got a ticket for my destination__…"__  
_

Then Sam joins in,

"_On a tour of one night stands__  
My suitcase and guitar in hand__  
And every stop is neatly planned__  
For a poet and a one man band…"_

Mike, Tina and Mercedes join in,

"_Homeward bound__  
I wish I was__  
Homeward bound__  
Home, where my thought's escaping__  
Home, where my music's playing__  
Home, where my love lies waiting__  
Silently for me"_

Then Santana sings the second stanza as she pulls Rachel closer to her,

"_Everyday's an endless stream__  
Of cigarettes and magazines__  
And each town looks the same to me__  
The movies and the factories__  
And every stranger's face I see__  
Reminds me that I long to be…"_

As they sing the chorus together, Rachel realizes that though most of them are rusty and out-of-practice, they all still sound good together and Rachel smiles, realizing how much she has missed the old gang.

When the song is finished, Sam says, "Okay, enough with the sentimental stuff, let's do something else!"

Then Sam starts playing Jason Mraz's "I'm Yours",

"_Well you done done me and you bet I felt it__  
__I tried to be chill but you're so hot that I melted__  
__I fell right through the cracks, now I'm trying to get back__  
__Before the cool done run out I'll be giving it my bestest__  
__And nothing's gonna stop me but divine intervention__  
__I reckon it's again my turn to win some or learn some…"_

Then when he gets to the next part, the others join in and sing, _"But I won't hesitate no more, no more__  
__It cannot wait, I'm yours…"_

Then Hootie and the Blowfish's "I Only Wanna Be With You", Toad the Wet Sprockets' "All I Want", Gin Blossoms' "As Long as It Matters" and "Til I Hear It From You".

"_I didn't ask  
They shouldn't have told me  
At first I'd laugh, but now  
It's sinking in fast  
Whatever they've sold me  
Well baby I don't want to take advice from fools  
I'll just figure everything is cool  
Until I hear it from you…"  
_

They finish the song, and Sam strums the opening chords for the Wallflowers' "Heroes".

"This is for you, Rachel, and your merry band of Brooklyn kids," Sam tells her now, grinning.

_"I, I wish you could swim_

_Like the dolphins, like dolphins can swim_

_Though nothing, nothing can keep us together_

_We can beat them, forever and ever_

_We can be heroes, just for one day…"_

The others sing the song with Sam all the way to the end,

_"We can be heroes, just for one day…_

_We can be heroes…_

_We can be heroes…"_

"Okay, enough rock," Mercedes interrupts when they finish the song and gives Sam instructions.

When Sam starts strumming the guitar, Carlos comes up to beat the side of the guitar, and Mercedes starts singing, Whitney Houston's "My Love is Your Love". Santana joins in, then Mike, and Quinn and Tina and Jeffrey.

"_If tomorrow is Judgment Day_ ("Sing it, Mercedes!" Sam says.)

_And I'm standing on the front line_

_And the Lord ask me what I did with my life_

_I will say I spent it with you _("Oh, yeah!" Sam says.)

_It's alright…"_

Then everyone, including Santana and Rachel, start singing the chorus together,_  
_

"_'Cause your love is my love_

_And my love is your love_

_It would take an eternity to break us_

_And the chains of Amistad couldn't hold us…"  
_  
"Hey, Rachel should totally sing," Sam says now. "You haven't sang in a while. And you sing like a dream, dude!"

"Hey, careful," Santana jokingly says now. "This one's taken. Like the other one was before you tried to snag her."

"Geez, Santana, you were broken up," Sam says.

"We were _on_ a break, not broken _up_," Santana corrects him.

"Oooh-kay," Quinn interrupts. "Stop it you guys, what's done is done. Just…stay away from Santana's women. You don't really want a repeat of that other time when Santana kicked you in the balls because of Brittany."

Mike and the others laugh, as Quinn adds, "And punched you in the face. Didn't Santana break your nose or something?"

"Okay, okay, not my best moment, I know, I'm sorry. I've been making up for it, okay?" Sam says now, sheepishly.

Santana smiles and lightly punches Sam's arm. "I know. You're okay, Sammy ol' boy."

"Well, how about it, Rachel?" Sam says now.

"Well, okay, but I can't think of anything right now," Rachel says. "So, why not 'Don't Stop Believin'?"

Sam smiles. "Awesome."

And then they start singing the song.

"_Just a small town girl_

_Leaving in a lonely world_

_She took a midnight train going anywhere…"_

Then the others start singing with her, suddenly remembering the words, the melody, the arrangements as instinctively as they remember how to breathe.

"Congrats, Rach, Santana," Sam and the others say.

* * *

They all stay up as late chatting and swapping stories and catching up on what each one has been doing with their lives as they can before they all call it a night.

Rachel and Santana are too tired to do anything else that night but kiss and hold each other until they fall asleep, but Rachel thinks this is the best, most unforgettable thing that has ever happened in her life. Rachel feels happy, content with Santana by her side.

She falls asleep with Santana holding her close to her side, whispering "I love you" to her.

Rachel thinks it's the best wedding ever.

Their wedding, for lack of a better word, is perfect.

And beautiful.

And all kinds of amazing.

* * *

**_Author's end notes:_**

**_That's it for this chapter! Hope you enjoyed it! Again many thanks for reading and reviewing. I kind of wanted to post this as a gift for you guys for the holidays (something to read while chilling out at home)._**

**_Celebrating the holidays but I haven't received any Christmas presents yet (I guess once you hit adulthood, the presents dry up, hahaha!) but as my beta knows - I'm pretty easy to please. You can leave a kind, encouraging review as a gift for me and my beta. :) That'll really do us a solid. :) (I include my beta as my beta is awesome, too and loves your reviews almost as much as I do! haha!). So I'd like to thank my beta as well, for going overtime to beta the many drafts of this chapter, despite the ridiculous length and how busy the beta is. Thank you DragonsWillFly! _:)**

**_This is the second to the last chapter and the last one will be the epilogue. Apologies for the length of this chapter - had to tie up some loose ends before I end this story. Also, yes, it's fluffy, okay? And I'm owning that! Ahhaha! ;)_**

**_Fancy having a new story/stories about our favorite Glee girls? (I try to think the new characters don't exist. Heck, except for the stuff that expands on the characters, I try to think seasons 2, 3 and 4 don't exist! haha!) Let me know in the reviews page._**

**_Again, many thanks for reading and reviewing and Happy Holidays! :)_**

**_Now on to your comments:_**

**_To CarolineSC - Hey! Many thanks for reading and reviewing chapter 28! As for Rachel's idea, you don't have to wait to long, all will be revealed in due time. Sorry about the cliffhanger! Ahahah! Happy holidays! :)_**

**_To Paula de Roma - Hey! Glad the Beatz talking about Blue Berry and them imagining Miz B giving birth made you laugh! Haha! Actually, as I told my beta (this freaked my beta out!haha!) you can imagine Rachel giving birth by imagining Quinn's goosebumps-inducing, cringe-inducing giving birth scene in season 1, with all the screaming and stuff, but less angsty and pained and no strange syncing up with the Vocal Adrenaline as they sing "Bohemian Rhapsody"! ahhaa! As for Baby Blue Berry (BBB - I like what you did there!) I think she'd kind of sing and then insult someone after, just because she's both Rachel and Santana's spawn. Hahah! As for the secret wedding - hahaha! I kind of did leave a few clues for you guys so it wouldn't seem like it was so out-of-the-blue. As for your queries, hope this chapter answers that. As for Santana's power - I do believe her emasculating guys is a better superpower - she can go all Lima Heights on everyone. Starting with Finn. And Mr. Schue! Happy holidays! Thanks for reading and reviewing!_**

**_To kickangel - Hi! Yes, I love Big Bang Theory, but I have the same question Raj had anyway, so he just voiced my concerns about zombies and vampires (plus the beta and I love our zombies and vampires!). Raj is also one of my favorite characters (actually I usually almost always prefer minority characters in TV shows). As for the Beatz taking their second place well - I wanted to go against the young African American stereotypes and show that they can be awesome as well (actually, I wanted to fill this story with as many minorities as I can and put in as many positive depictions as I can, because sometimes, Glee just annoys me so much when it came to that! :)). Yes, Rachel probably had a hand with that but I think she just has a way of bringing out the best in people (I like to think), re: Santana and Suzie and everyone else. :) As for Suzie being hilarious and adorable and lacking no filter - but of course! Hahaha! She's always fun to write, glad you enjoy her! As for Rachel's big idea - don't worry, all will be revealed in due time. As for the wedding, hope this chapter did not disappoint! As for goofy Pezberry even when discussing serious topics (re: having more children) - glad you enjoyed that. I seriously wanted to show how fun and adorable these two can be given the right storyline and I wanted to show a normal, healthy relationship because we don't see a lot of that in Glee. :) As for this story coming to an end, it's just this story, but the verse still exists and the only reason there aren't more stories is because I have this insane quality control thing going on and also because I like to figure out the story first before I start writing it. Thanks for reading and reviewing! :) Happy holidays!_**

**_To frustratedwriter - Hi! Glad you love chapter 28, the balance in the storylines (the story was coming to an end so I had to address each storyline equally) and the new possibilities for everyone. :) As for the writing the Beatz as hilarious, spot-on and smart - thank you, glad you like my writing of the Beatz - I honestly got sick and tired of the stereotypes Hollywood has about minorities, especially kids, so I thought I'd turn all that on its head. As for Suzie being a Rachel Jr. - hahah! Yes, she is, isn't she? RE: You're making me fall in love even more with the characters - Aww, I'm glad. I kind of fell in love with these characters, too! ;) Thanks for reading and reviewing! Happy holidays!_**

**_To kutee - Hi! Glad you love chapter 28! As for the Beatz getting the respect they deserve - yes! I wanted to show how a real Glee Club would actually get the kind of well-deserved respect what with all the hard work they have done. As for Zee - glad you love that he's in charge. 'Cause that's how our kids and Rachel roll! Hahah! As for Rachel getting her job back - all will be revealed in due time. :) Glad you love Gloria and that you still find Suzie the best. :) Glad this verse made you happy and that you will be re-reading it, soon! Want new stories? ;) Thanks for reading and reviewing! Happy holidays!_**

**_To parker88 - Hey! Glad you loved chapter 28! As for Santana's family - glad you love them! ;) Re: Bronx and the van - hahha! Yes, my beta found that funny,too! I just thought it would be hilarious. Sorry to hear you're sad this story is coming to an end, but wondering why you are excited also? ;) Anyway, thanks for reading and reviewing and happy holidays!_**

**_To amazinglife18 - Hi! Glad you found chapter 28 (talk about babies, Rachel's giving birth day, baby names, bedroom talk between Rachel and Santana) awesome! Glad you liked that bit about the Beatz meeting the President of the US of A. :-) Glad you liked that it is a female President - because, well, in my 'verse/s, minorities, women and lesbians rule! hahaha! ;) Beatz being successful and meeting the President - yes, I think that's well-deserved. _:-)****_ Glad you loved the bedroom scene before the wedding. I think this chapter answers stuff about the wedding. :) Thanks for reading and reviewing. Happy holidays! ;)_**

**_Acknowledgements:_**

**_For those of you wondering, the English translation of what Santana tells Rachel during their wedding vows is this (because I've always loved the Book of Ruth, this chapter and the verses)-_**

**_"But Ruth said, 'Do not urge me to leave you or to return from following you,For where you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there will I be buried. May the LORD do so to me and more also if anything but death parts me from you'" (The Book of Ruth 1:16-17 ESV)_**

**_"He was my North, my South, my East and West,_**  
**_My working week and my Sunday rest,_**  
**_My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;_**  
**_I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong." - by W.H. Auden (because I love W.H. Auden)_**

**_"I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees" (Quiero hacer contigo lo que la primavera hace con los cerezos) – Pablo Neruda (Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair)_**

**_The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry including the quotes "What is essential is invisible to the eye", "It is only with the heart that one sees rightly", and "You are responsible for what you have tamed forever" (because "The Little Prince" is one of my favorite books)_**

**_You lightly ran your finger over my soul til you found crack and then gently poured your love into that. (Keith Miller)_**

**_"The most meaningful journey to take is the one within…." and "Your life is yours to live intentionally" from Stuart Avery Gold's "Ping the Frog" (I've been reading this so I thought I'd include some bits of it now here)_**

**_About dot com on Jewish and Christian same sex weddings_**

**_Songs/music featured in this chapter:_**

**_Pachelbel's Canon in D major_**

**_"Forget You" by Ceelo Green_**

**_"Empire State of Mind" by Jay-Z and Alicia Keys_**

**_"Family Affair" by Mary J. Blige_**

**_"Feels Like Home" by Chantal Kreviazuk_**

**_"Can't Take My Eyes Off of You"_**

**_"How Sweet it is to be Loved By You " by Marvin Gaye_**

**_"Come See About Me" by The Supremes (yes, I featured this song, it's from Season 4, which is pretty much the only and best thing about Season 4: Quinn and Santana singing. Check it out on youtube dot com. Actually, Quinn and Santana singing "Say a Little Prayer" is my all-time favorite from Season 1,too!)_**

**_"Homeward Bound" by Simon and Garfunkel (yes, also from Season 4, just ignore that mash-up with that song from that guy from American Idol)_**

**_"I'm Yours" by Jason Mraz (because this is better than that time Sam sang "Lucky" with Quinn)_**

**_"I Only Wanna Be With You" by Hootie and the Blowfish (because my beta and I love our rock songs from the 90s!)_**

**_"All I Want" by Toad the Wet Sprockets_**

**_"As Long as It Matters" and "Til I Hear It From You" by Gin Blossoms_**

**_"Heroes" by Wallflowers_**

**_"My Love is Your Love" by Whitney Houston_**


	30. Epilogue: Second Acts and New Beginnings

_**Author's note: Dear readers - chapter 30 is here. Thought I might give you something to read for the New Year. :) So, here, have some more fluff. :) Happy New Year and best wishes to everyone! **_**:-) _You're welcome. _:)**

* * *

Rachel wakes up to the early dawn peaking from the window, beyond which she can see splashes of gold and crimson and indigo blue glowing off in the horizon.

Rachel feels momentarily disoriented, but then as her eyes flutter open and as she takes in the familiar room she has slept in whenever she goes home to Lima, the walls, the dresser, the luggage on the floor with clothes strewn on it, and the familiar warm body in threadbare tank top and underwear sleeping next to her, disheveled, wavy dark hair tickling her face and neck, left arm cradling Rachel's head, right arm possessively draped on her waist, thigh carelessly thrown on her, she realizes she is in Santana's bedroom and she smiles, leaning closer to kiss her wife softly on the cheek. Then all the memories of the previous day flood back to her and a wide smile spreads across her face as an upwelling of love for Santana flows through her and she moves closer to Santana, throwing an arm around her and pulling her closer. Santana, still fast sleep, hums appreciatively and instinctively curls around Rachel, burying her face into Rachel's neck.

Rachel now shifts, lies on her right side, raises her head and rests it on her right hand as she watches Santana sleep in the half darkness of dawn. Rachel lifts her other hand and lightly runs her finger over Santana's bare shoulder, then down her arm, then on to the curve of her waist and hip, then the thigh thrown on Rachel's body. She turns to her wife's face, pulls the stray hair away from Santana's face, as she looks at Santana's face, at the smooth cheekbones, the equally smooth forehead and nose, the thick curl of dark eyelashes. The years have been kind to Santana Lopez and it shows. In the half-darkness, Rachel can make out Santana's smooth tan skin. Santana looks beautiful. Impossibly beautiful. A soft flicker of desire, mixed in with the surge of love she is feeling now for her wife, lights Rachel up from within but she only smiles, not wanting to wake Santana up, wanting to enjoy this quiet moment of adoring and obsessing and loving her wife.

The house seems quiet, though this is because people have stayed up late and are now sleeping in, Rachel does not quite know, but she welcomes the peace and quiet that the early dawn brings.

In a few moments, Santana stirs, softly moans, pulls at Rachel and mumbles, "Stop staring."

Rachel chuckles softly as she plants a soft kiss on Santana's cheek. "I wasn't staring," she protests now.

"Yeah, you were," Santana mumbles as she shifts, eyelids fluttering open. "It's really creepy."

Rachel giggles again. "No, it's not."

"Yeah, it is," Santana says now, eyes closing again as she nuzzles Rachel's neck. "It's like having my own personal creepy stalker. _Wanky._"

At any other time, say high school, this would have rubbed Rachel the wrong way, and would have set off a string of bickering that would have ended in Santana trying to make a lunge for Rachel as their friends try to restrain Santana, but as Santana says the last part, a slow smile also spreads on her face as she opens her arms, inviting Rachel in for a hug.

Rachel smiles, as she comes into Santana's arms willingly and leans to kiss her again. "I can't help it if you look hot at all times of the day and night," she whispers hotly in Santana's ear. "And I have to keep reminding myself sometimes that you're mine."

Santana chuckles now, eyes opening sleepily. "I am, though, aren't I?"

"What?" Rachel asks as Santana leans over and half covers her body.

"Hot," Santana says, leaning over for a soft kiss.

Rachel giggles even as the delicate swipe of Santana's tongue against her lips and tongue sends a shudder down Rachel's spine. She shouldn't be surprised that after five years Santana still manages to have this effect on her, but she still _does_. Through the haze of desire, she manages to say, "Cocky much?"

Santana grins as she continues to kiss Rachel. "You know it, babe."

Santana arms close around Rachel and she now shifts, pushing gently so that Rachel is lying on her back and Santana is lying on top of her. Rachel feels Santana's knee gently nudging Rachel's knees and Rachel opens her legs for Santana to settle in comfortably. Santana then buries her face in Rachel's neck, inhaling her and kissing her reverently from throat to neck to ear to jaw to cheek to lips. When Santana's lips get to Rachel's, Santana pauses, hot breath just a few inches from Rachel's and so Rachel's eyes fly open and she sees that Santana is just looking at her, gazing at her with a loving look in her dark, expressive eyes.

Rachel smiles and says, teasingly, "Now, _you're_ the one doing that creepy stalker thing. Stop it."

Santana laughs, then she slowly lowers her head and gently kisses Rachel. She then manages to say, "Weirdo."

Rachel chuckles. "_You're_ the weirdo."

Santana laughs. "Oh, yeah?" she challenges before she proceeds to pull her arms out of Rachel's back and begins to dig her fingers into Rachel's waist, tickling her.

Rachel starts to giggle and says, "Stop it!"

"Holler uncle!" Santana says.

"No!" Rachel says between giggles.

"Say uncle!"

Rachel tries to roll her eyes as she giggles some more, before she says, "Fine, I give up, uncle!"

Santana grins triumphantly before she stops, rests her head on her right hand, slips her left hand under Rachel's head and lazily kisses Rachel's cheek. Rachel turns her head, brings up her hand and kisses Santana. They stay like this for a long, tender moment, and Rachel feels it, her body warming up to Santana's kiss. She doesn't even notice it when her body starts writhing to Santana's kiss but Santana notices it as she begins to push her thigh against Rachel's. Rachel catches her breath, gasps, moans as she kisses Santana again.

"Honey…" Rachel's voice trails off.

"Baby…" Santana murmurs back, the need in her voice very apparent.

And with that, Rachel's hands reach out and grab the hem of Santana's tank top and pulls it up off Santana as Santana reaches for Rachel's sleep shirt, hands ghosting over Rachel's stomach as she pulls it up Rachel's body. Both pause as they take off each other's shirts, and Santana homes in on Rachel's lips, kissing and nibbling at her lips and tongue before she proceeds to kiss and lick and nip at Rachel's neck and throat and chest, Santana's right hand coming up to rub and squeeze at Rachel's right thigh as Rachel's leg comes up to hook itself on Santana's back side, before the hand goes to Rachel's hip, squeezing Rachel's back side, then coming up to trace the curve of Rachel's waist, then up to the swell of Rachel's breast, gently squeezing the curve of breast before Santana's lips instinctively find its way to it, kissing and sucking and licking at it. Rachel throws her head back on the pillow, hand coming up to press encouragingly on Santana's head as Santana continues with her loving ministrations on Rachel's right breast before going to the other one. The moistness of Santana's lips on Rachel's breast makes Rachel gasp some more and Santana, long attuned to Rachel's body, continues with her ministrations as her hands fondle and caress and her body continues to rock into Rachel. Rachel responds in kind, pulling at Santana and moaning in pleasure, body warm and flush against Santana's as she feels the mounting pressure, her breathing growing rugged and uneven and desperate as the tightness builds up deep within the deepest part of her, the core of her. She grabs at Santana's head and tugs lightly and Santana unconsciously knows what Rachel is trying to say and she skids up and over, meeting Rachel's lips in a deep kiss as her left hand goes from Rachel's breast to her stomach, to her waist, hips, inner thighs before fingers find themselves rubbing gently against Rachel's underwear, expert fingers knowing just exactly how Rachel needs to be touched, needs to be satisfied. Rachel takes a deep intake of breath and pulls Santana closer with her arm, kissing her as her body moves in sync with Santana's, Santana's fingers snaking into Rachel's underwear, deftly circling and connecting with the throbbing swell of heat and wetness within, for what seems like forever, as Rachel's breathing goes even more rugged, her moans of pleasure proving unbearable as her fingers press against Santana's naked back and she whispers in Santana's ear, "San…" Santana senses that Rachel is close to the edge and she pulls back, as she locks eyes with Rachel, and they hold each other's gaze as Santana shifts, moves, continues to give Rachel long, deep kisses as Rachel moans both in pleasure and frustration but then Santana finally slides smoothly into her, and uses her thigh to gently plunge herself even deeper into Rachel, making Rachel gasp and pause for a few moments as she enjoys the delicious sensation of feeling Santana inside her, before she tumbles over to the edge, Santana gently pushing and pulling, rocking into her rhythmically, holding Rachel with her other arm as she does so.

When Rachel is done riding out the last waves of her pleasure, her body grows slack and Santana, sensing it, slows down and stops and rests the full-length of her body on Rachel, resting her forehead on Rachel's forehead and kissing her lightly on the lips. Rachel's heart is pounding wildly away on her chest, and she is flushed and out of breath and when her eyes fly open, she can see Santana gazing at her, dark eyes full of love and devotion.

"Good morning," Santana whispers now.

Rachel grins. "Good morning," she whispers back as Santana tilts her head and kisses Rachel.

They kiss for what seems like forever, before Santana pulls away and starts kissing Rachel on her cheek again, then leaving a trail of kisses on Rachel's jaw, throat, then down to her chest, then her stomach, before Santana's lips hover and linger just above Rachel's underwear and her fingers slowly trace Rachel's underwear before she starts to tug the underwear down Rachel's hips. Rachel lifts her hips as Santana quickly slides the silky underwear down Rachel's legs.

"Aaww, baby, not wearing Granny panties for me today?" Santana manages to joke as she tosses Rachel's underwear down on the bed.

Rachel blushes.

"Just kidding baby," Santana murmurs as she places herself between Rachel's legs.

"Honey," Rachel whispers uncertainly, now feeling a bit shy and embarrassed in the half-darkness, even as she shifts to let Santana be more comfortable.

Santana looks up, grins, then lifts herself up and quickly scrambles for the bedside table near the bed to Santana's left. She reaches for the second drawer, gropes around inside and brandishes a flimsy material in front of Rachel.

"Don't worry babe, I came prepared," Santana whispers, grinning.

Rachel feels relieved as Santana settles back down and places the dental dam between Rachel's legs. While she really enjoys Santana between her legs like this ("So gay," Santana had commented once) Rachel always feels shy when it comes to this, especially during their many early morning sex sessions, and despite Santana's repeated assurances that she loves everything about Rachel and loves her lady parts most of all, Rachel still feels shy, so they have made a compromise, although Rachel has promised that night sessions wouldn't have the pesky dental dams between them. Rachel lies down now as she feels Santana's lips and tongue press against her and the heat and warmth of Santana on her knocks Rachel back down on the bed, as she starts to writhe against Santana, enjoying the pleasure of having the feel of Santana against her, inside her.

It is not long before she comes undone again and Santana continues, relentless as wave upon wave of pleasure hit Rachel until she has to put her hand on Santana and whisper, "Honey, no more. I can't…I don't think I can anymore…let me catch my breath first…I'm _way_ too sensitive down there…"

Santana looks up at Rachel and a slow grin spreads on her face. She nods and peels the dam off of Rachel, discards it in the small bin near the bedside table, and crawls up to Rachel, engulfing her in a hug and kissing her.

"I love you," Santana whispers now.

Rachel smiles, her hand coming up to cup Santana's face and saying, "I love you, too."

Santana grins. "I love you more."

Rachel does a half-smirk. "I loved you _first_."

As Santana rolls her eyes and makes to say a retort, Rachel lifts her head, and her hand comes up to pull Santana down in a deep, passionate kiss before she expertly bucks her hips and pushes Santana back on the bed, so that she is on top, straddling Santana with her thighs, and leaning over, kisses Santana some more as her hand comes up to cup the swell of Santana's breast in one hand.

"I do believe I owe you for the lovely surprise wedding you just threw me yesterday," Rachel murmurs softly now as she keeps on kissing her wife.

Santana grins into the kisses as her hands come up to Rachel's back side, before it slides on the small of Rachel's back, then up to her shoulders. Rachel's lips then start kissing Santana's jaw, throat, chest, before it finds the swell on her chest, catching one firm nipple in her mouth. At the same time, Santana begins to say, "Baby, you don't have to…" before she gets cut off by the feel of Rachel's lips and tongue on her breast and she arches her back as Rachel continues to kiss her.

Rachel comes up now and gazes at Santana. "Oh? I don't have to?" she asks, a playful smile on her lips.

Santana bites her lower lip now and from the look in her eyes, Rachel can tell she does not want whatever Rachel is doing to stop.

Santana is silent for a few moments before she says, "No, you don't have to."

Rachel looks at her for a few moments before a slow smile spreads on her face and she leans in and kisses Santana's lips, whispering, "But I want to. Think of it as me trying to express my…eternal gratitude…besides…we agreed you're getting laid forever…" as her hands reach for Santana's underwear and tugs at it, sliding it down her hips and thighs and legs before her and Santana responds, with a moan of pleasure.

* * *

Later, having spent the entire morning making love, exhausted and satisfied, Rachel and Santana lie cuddling in each other's arms, lazily kissing each other, skin glistening with sweat, legs and arms tangled, so that one couldn't tell where one ended and the other began, Rachel lovingly tracing Santana's cheekbones and jaw with a finger as she gazes at her wife, the morning spring sunlight softly streaming from the window, caressing Santana's face with gentle light, her skin glowing in soft radiance.

Presently, Rachel whispers, "You're so gorgeous."

Santana smiles lazily and leans over, planting a kiss on Rachel's lips.

Rachel receives her kiss passionately, and when the kiss is done, she settles in the crook of Santana's arm, smiling to herself.

Santana's left hand comes up to rub Rachel's shoulder, her other hand resting on Rachel's waist, thumb absently rubbing against Rachel's skin.

In the comfortable, contented silence that ensues, Rachel makes a small sound, as of clearing her throat, and she starts to say, hesitantly, "So…"

Santana inhales a deep breath. "So," she says back, before planting a kiss on her wife's head, continuing to rub Rachel's shoulder.

Rachel is silent for a few heartbeats, the fingers of her left hand on Santana's chest, before she says, nervously, "Your daughter's pretty persuasive, isn't she?"

Santana shifts to look at Rachel. Rachel looks up.

"Huh?" Santana asks, wondering why their daughter would suddenly be brought up.

Rachel shrugs. "I'm just saying…she even got the President of the United States on board this whole 'Get-my-mommies-to-give-me-a-sibling' campaign."

Santana is quiet for a heartbeat before she chuckles. "And what, you're surprised by this?"

Rachel looks up at her now, a puzzled look on her face. Santana grins at her and explains.

"Babe, Britt's her _mom_, that's exactly how I got a cheerleading scholarship in Kentucky without my knowing anything about it in the first place," Santana says with an eye roll. "And you're her _mother_. Didn't you spend most of your high school and NYADA life scheming for solos and scheming about how to snag the most popular boy in school? Including Sex Offender? I'm surprised you're surprised she's pretty persuasive."

"Hey!" Rachel says, playfully hitting her on the arm. "You were the one who intentionally got mono so you could get revenge on Finn and Quinn! And didn't you set up that Bully Whips thing so Kurt could come back and you could not only win prom queen but get Brittany back? Didn't Kurt describe you as a Latina Eve Harrington or something? You kind of raised scheming to a Machiavellian art form you know."

Santana lies back on the pillows, and grins. "Ah, yes, so I did. So I did. Good times, babe, good times."

Rachel laughs.

They are silent for a few moments again, lost in their own thoughts, when Rachel speaks up again. "So…what do you think?"

"What do I think about what?" Santana asks, absently. "Being a Latina Eve Harrington? Or having single-handedly raised scheming to a Machiavellian art form?"

Rachel looks at her in exasperation. "About a little Blue Berry Lopez running around the house in a few years' time?" Rachel asks lightly, but carefully.

Santana stops running her hand on Rachel's shoulder, is quiet for a few moments and Rachel looks up, carefully, thinking maybe her wife is freaking out again, but Santana only seems deep in thought, frowns, looks at Rachel, then says, "Well…"

Santana pauses dramatically and Rachel knits her eyebrows, wondering what Santana will say.

But then Santana says, "I think we shouldn't let the President of the United States down. We _can't_ let her down."

Rachel stares at her, thinking Santana isn't making sense right now, but then a grin slowly spreads on Santana's face and Rachel throws her head back and laughs.

As Rachel chuckles, Santana says, "I mean seriously, this is, like, a matter of national security now or something."

"Yeah, right, sure," Rachel says now, as she leans up and over, planting a kiss on Santana's lips. "Silly."

Santana grins into Rachel's kiss as Rachel puts her hand on Santana's nape and kisses her even more.

"The pressure to perform though," Santana comments now, as she smiles.

Rachel smiles as she settles into Santana's arms. "Seriously, do you want to have more kids, honey?"

Santana looks at Rachel. "Only if you want to. I'd love for you to carry my child, baby. But baby or no baby, it's fine. I mean Suzie's already a handful as it is."

Rachel chuckles. "That's true." She nuzzles deeper into Santana's embrace and whispers, "I wouldn't mind it though."

Santana looks at her. "What?"

"Being the mother of your children. Our children," Rachel says now. "If I could have lots of babies with you now, I would. I'd love to have dozens of little Santana Lopezes running around."

Santana looks at her in mock horror. "Oh, god. That would be a nightmare!" she teasingly says. "I can barely take care of the one spawn I have!"

Rachel chuckles.

"And also, that's creepy!" Santana jokes. "Creepier than you staring at me while I sleep!"

Rachel playfully hits her on the arm. "Jerk!"

Santana only laughs. "A child would be nice…but a house would be better," she jokingly says now. "Or a bigger, but more environment-friendly car."

Rachel looks at her. "Did you just compare a child to a house?"

Santana laughs. "And a car. Sorry. Just kidding." She engulfs Rachel in an embrace and nuzzles her neck. "I think you're…_we're_ kind of crazy for wanting another child, but if it's going to make you happy, then it's going to make me happy."

"But you want to have another one?" Rachel insists. "I mean, disregarding my wishes and what I want…would you want another child?"

Santana looks at her now. Then she slowly smiles. "I've never actually thought about it. Either way is fine. But if I were to have a child again, I'd like to have that child with you."

Rachel smiles now as she pulls at Santana and hugs her tightly. "Okay."

Santana kisses her head now before she stops and says, "Wait…did I just agree to have another child with you?"

When Rachel only laughs, Santana says, "Oh, god, we're going to name our child Blue, aren't we?"

"Like you said, it's a matter of national security," Rachel says now. "Even the President of the United States approves of it."

Santana rolls her eyes. Rachel lifts her head and kisses Santana on the lips. The room grows quiet again as they kiss each other.

They share a few moments of contentment again, until Rachel pulls away, sighs and says, "I suppose we have to get up now."

Santana sighs in response and says, "I suppose so."

Rachel chuckles. "You don't seem too happy at the prospect."

Santana grins. "Because it means I can't get my cuddle on now. And I honestly think we deserve a longer honeymoon than this."

Rachel laughs. "Aaaw, honey. I'm so sorry." She then gets up and shivers at the sudden absence of warmth Santana's body is providing her, reaches for her bag, rummages within and takes out pieces of paper and hands it to Santana.

Santana accepts the paper with a puzzled look on her face. "What's this?" As she scrutinizes the papers, she realizes what it is and Rachel does not miss the excitement on her face. "Is this…?"

Rachel grins. "Yes. It is."

Santana cannot resist the squeal of delight that comes out of her lips. "Baby! You got me tickets to Comic Con?!" she asks incredulously, still not believing her eyes.

"Uh, yes," Rachel says. "Tickets for us, as well as the flight tickets. Your secretary helped me."

Santana's grin grows wider. "This is awesome, baby!" she says now, as she moves over to engulf her wife in a long, tight hug, blanket falling away from her, joy apparent in her eyes and voice.

Rachel smiles as she hugs Santana back. A surge of affection surrounds Rachel now, seeing the unmistakable joy in Santana's face, like a little boy who has just been given the keys and unlimited access to all the amusement parks in the world.

"As long as you promise _not_ to dress up as a superhero or anything," Rachel murmurs now, jokingly. "Because that is _so_ not hot."

Santana chuckles before pulling back and looking into Rachel's eyes. "I thought you liked role plays."

Rachel's cheeks color. She swallows, clears her throat, before she manages to shyly say, "In the bedroom, not in a geekfest like the San Diego Comic Con."

Santana laughs. "Okay, okay." She stares at the tickets again before she puts them on the bedside table and hugs Rachel again. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Rachel replies, smiling at her wife. They hug each other for a long moment again, before Rachel pulls back and says, "We really have to get up now."

Santana groans as she pulls away and says, "Ugh. Okay."

"Okay," Rachel says, making to get up, pulling the bed sheet around her and wrapping herself in it as she does so. "I've got to take a shower first."

Santana nods as she takes what's left of the blanket and wraps it around her as well.

Rachel grins playfully and says, "Care to join me?"

Santana looks at her and a wide, mischievous grin spreads across her face. "Hell, yeah!"

Rachel giggles as Santana takes the hand she offers and she pulls her wife to their bathroom, shutting the door behind them, hot water masking the giggling and the other noises after.

* * *

Later, as they dress in casual tees and jeans, Rachel putting on one of Santana's gray Louisville tees and jeans as Santana puts on one of Rachel's pink NYADA tees with her jeans, Rachel smiles, realizing that Santana, who has always despised pink and what she thinks is the pretentiousness that is NYADA, now not only likes wearing Rachel's tees but actually also has this particular pink NYADA tee as an all-time favorite. Rachel watches as Santana finishes drying her hair, flicking it and running her hand over it by the mirror even as she runs her hairbrush over her own hair. As she watches Santana running her hand over hair, her eyes run over Santana's arms, her shoulders, her waist, her thighs and she stares a long time until Santana stops and asks, "Everything okay, baby?"

Rachel shakes her head and blushes a little, only realizing she has just been caught staring, especially since she has just been thinking of her and Santana making love on their bed and in the shower, still feeling Santana's lips everywhere on her, still wanting the feel of Santana inside her.

Santana grins playfully at her now, before she gets up, goes to Rachel and kisses her.

"Yes, I'm okay," Rachel says, flustered.

Santana chuckles. "You look like you want to go another round," she whispers playfully to Rachel. "Scratch that, you look like you could _go_ another round."

Rachel blushes even deeper and gulps before Santana leans down and kisses her, one hand snaking into Rachel's shirt as she slowly pushes Rachel back onto the bed, all thought of going out of their bedroom forgotten.

* * *

The couple finally manages to come out of their room and go to the kitchen, where most of the noises and voices seem to be emanating from.

When they get there, they are surprised to see a lot more people than they expected congregating around the kitchen table with donuts, brewed coffee, cereal, toast, pancake, the noise of the radio and the noisy, easy banter amongst the people filling the kitchen with warmth. When the kitchen door swings open to reveal Rachel and Santana giggling and holding each other's hands like the two lovesick, newlyweds that they are, the people stop, turn and look at them before everyone greets them with, "Hey, Rachel, Santana!" "Morning lovebirds!" "Nice of you to join us!" "Hi Mom, Hi Mee!" "Coffee? Tea? Or did you already have breakfast?" this last one said by Carlos in a suggestive way, eyebrows wriggling wickedly, eyes glinting with mischief.

Rachel blushes as Santana rolls her eyes, goes to Carlos and without saying anything, hits him on the head before she says, "Coffee will be fine, jerk."

"Ow!" Carlos says, as he rubs the back of his head.

Rachel takes in the scene and sees not only Dr. Lopez, Mrs. Lopez, Suzie, Carlos, Carlitos, Tia Evita, and Kate but also, inexplicably, Sam, Mike, Kurt and Quinn. Dr. Lopez and Mrs. Lopez now smile at the couple, put their coffee cups in the sink and announce that they are going to the backyard to check on how the yard is being tidied up. Dr. Lopez informs the couple that Tia Evita and Santana's Abuela have already gone back to Florida but that Tia Evita will visit the couple soon in New York. They tell the couple, Santana's cousin, Max, had also quietly gone back to her base right after the wedding. Rachel and Santana smile. The others nod and wave at the elder Lopezes as they step out into the backyard.

Sam, Mike, Kurt and Quinn grin now at the couple and greet them with a, "Good morning, Santana, Rachel," as Sam and Mike stand up, offering the high chairs they are sitting on to the couple.

Santana rolls her eyes again as she takes the seat offered to her, even as Rachel follows suit, sitting beside her. Santana's hand automatically goes to the small of Rachel's back to absently rub it before it goes to Rachel's thigh. Sam slides two empty cups of coffee in front of them even as Mike offers them both coffee from the coffeemaker with raised eyebrows. The women both nod and Mike pours them both coffee as Santana says, "Not to be rude, but what on earth are you guys doing here this early?"

"Slept on the couch," Kurt mumbles, "Too tired to go home."

"Slept on the floor," Sam replies, "Same reason."

"Came by for breakfast," Mike answers, "Dr. JLo and Kurt invited me. Tina would've come too, but giving our kid a bath now, you know?"

"Same as Mike," Quinn says, "Jeffrey would've come but he's with Aidan now, so."

Suzie, who is busily eating cereal from the same bowl with Kate, looks up at Sam now and says, flatly, "You owe me fifty bucks."

Sam colors and suddenly becomes flustered, "Err…"

"Dude, shouldn't have taken that bet," Mike says now, grinning.

"You owe Suzie fifty bucks?" Rachel says now. "Whatever for?"

"Uncle Sam bet that you guys would come out of.._mmff_…" the last part of Suzie's reply is muffled as Sam's hand comes up to cover Suzie's mouth.

"Er, it's nothing," Sam hurriedly says as his other hand tries to fumble for his wallet at the back of his jeans.

"Nothing?" Santana asks now, curiosity piqued at Sam and Suzie's behavior.

Mike stares up at the ceiling. "Sam bet Suzie you guys would come out of your room after lunch," Mike answers. "Suzie says you guys would come out a little after ten or eleven or something."

Rachel and Santana now make a face as Rachel's face begins to flush again. An embarrassed, awkward silence ensues.

"Why the he-_ck_ are you betting on us?" Santana demands now, sufficiently recovering her speech after the embarrassed, awkward silence. "And why on earth are you betting with our kid? Where on earth would Suzie have gotten fifty bucks?"

"Doesn't matter, Mom. I have savings. And I so knew I was going to win," Suzie simply says now. She turns to Sam now and says, "And you still owe me fifty bucks, Uncle Sam."

Santana glares at Sam and Sam's face grows afraid, as the look that he gives her indicates that he has no idea what Santana is going to do. Rachel already knows Santana has a mean left hook, so she places her hand on Santana's hand, the one resting on Rachel's thigh, and starts to rub it gently. "Honey…" she begins softly, not wanting a perfectly pleasant morning ruined.

But then Carlos throws back his head and laughs and Mike follows suit, and Kurt, and Quinn grin and Rachel is relieved. But she looks at Santana and realizes Santana was not particularly angry, just a bit annoyed at Sam's stunt.

"Beaten by a twelve year old!" Carlos says now, laughing hysterically, as he doubles over in laughter. "Such a dork!"

"Fifty bucks, Uncle Sam," Suzie says now, insistently.

"Alright, alright," Sam says, fishing out his wallet from his back pocket and fishing out five ten-dollar bills and hands it to Suzie's outstretched hand. "Hustler!"

Suzie grins. "Easiest fifty bucks I ever made!" she says as she turns to Kate and says, "Want to watch some TV before your mom comes to pick you up?"

Kate smiles and nods and stands up when Suzie does, following her to the living room. Carlitos decides he's had enough of breakfast as well and follows Kate. After Kate and Carlitos disappear off to the living room and Suzie is about to go in after them, Santana grabs Suzie's elbow, leans over and says, "Sweetie, you know it's bad to gamble right?"

Suzie guiltily smiles and says, "I'm sorry, mom. But Uncle Sam kind of made me. Am I being grounded?"

Santana looks at Rachel for confirmation and Rachel smiles back and says, "Maybe we leave her off the hook just this once?"

Santana smiles back, relieved Rachel has taken this off of her hands.

Suzie grins winningly at her mothers and rushes towards Rachel to give her a hug. "You are the best mom ever!" Suzie says now.

Rachel chuckles. "It's still bad, sweetie. Don't do it again."

"Okay, Mee, sorry," Suzie says before she steps back and joins the other kids in the living room.

"Aaaw, and I was planning on teaching her poker!" Carlos jokes now.

Santana leans over and says, "Hey, Carlos, I have something to tell you."

"What?" Carlos asks now, leaning over, across the table.

"Come closer," Santana says.

Carlos stands up, chair scraping against the floor as he leans over.

"Closer," Santana says, face impassive as she waits for Carlos to lean closer.

When Carlos leans close enough for Santana and him to rub noses, Santana's left hand comes up and smacks Carlos at the back of the head.

Quinn, Mike and Sam laugh as Rachel shakes her head.

"Ow!" Carlos says now, as he leans back, grabs his chair and plops down again. "What the hell, Santana?"

"Don't give me your parenting problems, jerk," Santana says now, her lips quirking into a mischievous smile.

The others laugh as they settle back and continue sipping coffee, munching on toast, corn flakes and pancakes.

"Seriously, you guys, what on earth are you doing here?" Santana says now, "Not that I'm enjoying hanging out with you guys, but we just spent an entire afternoon and most of the night and early morning hanging out and _singing_. And a bit more time before that just planning the wedding."

"Well…"Sam says tentatively. "We came to tell you something really, really important. Like, really, really important." Sam looks mysteriously to the other guys, who nod in agreement.

Rachel and Santana lean over in curiosity, wondering what Sam was going to say. Sam pauses dramatically, deep in thought before he opens his mouth and starts singing Starland Vocal Band's "Afternoon Delight".

"_Gonna find my baby, gonna hold her tight__  
__Gonna grab some afternoon delight.__  
__My motto's always been, when it's right, it's right.__  
__Why wait until the middle of a cold dark night.__  
__When everything's a little clearer in the light of day.__  
__And you know the night is always gonna be there any way."_

Carlos starts laughing as Mike joins in and Carlos joins during the chorus. Meanwhile, Santana starts to scowl at the guys as Rachel begins to blush.

_"Sky rockets in flight. Afternoon delight. Afternoon delight…"__  
_

Sam, Mike and Carlos raise their voices to a falsetto and start singing the second stanza of the song as Santana continues to glare at them, and Quinn has a tell-tale smirk on her face.

"_Thinkin' of you's workin' up my appetite__  
__Looking forward to a little afternoon delight.__  
__Rubbin' sticks and stones together makes the sparks ingite__  
__And the thought of rubbin' you is getting so exciting…"_

As they come to the chorus again, Carlos cannot keep his face straight anymore and he breaks down laughing, and in a few seconds, Mike, then Sam follow suit, filling the kitchen with laughter.

"_Sky rockets in flight. Afternoon delight. Afternoon delight…"__  
_

"I hate all of you," Santana declares now. She waits patiently for the laughter to die down before she tries again. "Seriously, what are you guys doing here? Besides annoy the hell out of me."

Rachel smiles at her, as her hand comes up to entwine itself in Santana's hand. Santana looks at her and smiles.

"Dude! 'Afternoon Delight' is the best thing about 'Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy'!" Sam says now, grinning. "Awesome movie!"

Santana rolls her eyes. "Why are you here again?" she repeats, mock irritation her face.

Rachel manages to grin despite the blush on her face and she puts her hand on Santana's thigh and smiles.

"Um, before anything else," Rachel says, "I'd…_we'd_ like to thank all of you for coming to our wedding…and helping out with…everything…"

Sam, Mike and Quinn all smile in a diffident way as they raise their palms in a dismissive way, as if to say "It's nothing".

"As I keep saying," Quinn begins, "Don't mention it…to anyone…_ever_…"

The boys laugh as Santana frowns and says, "Seriously, you guys, why are you here?"

Suzie comes in to get some cookies from the cookie jar and overhears the conversation among the adults.

"Well, we're kind of planning Kurt's wedding, seeing as he caught the bridal bouquet you threw yesterday," Sam says with a smirk.

"Except you have to think about who you're going to marry him off to, Uncle Sam, seeing as he's as single as ever," Suzie remarks now to Kurt's blush and eye roll.

Then, Suzie comes up to the men now, turns to Sam and says, out-of-the-blue, "You can marry Uncle Kurt, Uncle Sam."

Sam almost spits his coffee out, even as the other adults, including Rachel, Santana, Quinn, Mike and Carlos almost spit out their coffee or choke on the food they are eating. Sam coughs and tries to swallow even as Kurt blushes a deep red.

"Honey," Santana says, trying hard not to smile.

"What?" Suzie asks innocently. "Uncle Kurt is single. Uncle Sam is single. They're perfect for each other," Suzie continues now. "Except maybe for that part where Uncle Sam won't stop talking about superheroes and space ships and aliens and hobbits and stuff…" Suzie says thoughtfully now. "I think that's going to be like, a mood killer or something. Maybe you could get some pointers from Mom or something. She always makes Mee happy."

There is an awkward silence among the adults as they try to think of something appropriate to say.

"Plus, if you marry Uncle Sam, I get to get another hamster and call it 'Sam'!" Suzie says now, with a smile.

The silence continues before Rachel decides to break it by clearing her throat. "Sweetie, I don't think Uncle Sam…swings that way…"

"What way?" Suzie asks now.

"I don't think Uncle Sam is into…" Rachel clears her throat again, feeling uncomfortable. "You know…other guys."

Suzie screws up her face, puzzled. "Well, why not? Uncle Kurt is awesome. Especially when he wears all that awesome stuff." She turns to Kurt and says, "My favorite is your leopard suit, and that Persian rug thing, and those brooches…actually I like a lot of your clothes. I think you guys are a good match. Besides, I saw you hitting on Kate's mom and Uncle Kurt's friends, so. At least you know Uncle Kurt is available and stuff. And we already know Uncle Kurt likes muscular guys. And you look really handsome with that hair on your face."

Sam's blush grows deeper as he looks down at his cup of coffee, suddenly finding it more interesting than the conversation they are having right now. Rachel notices that Sam's ears and neck have grown quite pink as well. Kurt is the same way.

Kurt clears his throat. "I date people."

"Who may or may not be imaginary," Mike jokes now.

Kurt glares at Mike. Mike's smile disappears from his face.

"And you thought you weren't into other girls, too, Mee," Suzie points out now to Rachel's blush. "Before you met Mom of course."

"Ah, kiddo, I think she's just into _me_, not other girls," Santana says with a smug smile.

Rachel, still blushing, looks at Santana, and manages to roll her eyes. "Go…hang out with Kate and Carlitos, sweetie," Rachel tells Suzie.

Suzie looks from Rachel to Santana and at the other adults, thinks about it for a moment and shrugs before she heads to the living room again, cookies in hand.

When Suzie leaves, Rachel turns to Santana now and says, evenly, and with a smirk on her face, "And I don't know, there were some other pretty hot Cheerios on Coach Sue's team when we were in high school."

Santana's smug smile disappears.

"Eeww," Quinn says now, making a disgusted face. "Just realized you might actually have been perving on me and the other Cheerios that whole time we were in high school."

"How do you know she wasn't just perving on me?" Santana retorts.

"So, basically, you telling Rachel that time during regionals that you were just pretending to like her was just one big ploy to make her like you back?" Mike asks Santana, grinning.

Santana rolls her eyes.

"Hate to break it to you, Quinn, but you weren't actually all that in high school," Rachel says now, teasingly.

"She actually was," Santana says now, thoughtfully. "I mean, she was actually hot and stuff. Too bad she wasn't into…girls and…" When Santana catches everyone staring at her, she reddens and her voice trails off at the last part of her sentence. "Not that, I was into her or anything…"

"Hmmm…but you were always on each other's throats though," Mike says thoughtfully, looking from Santana and Quinn and back. "Kind of makes one think again."

"Yeah, you were always slapping each other and stuff," Sam adds. "I mean, you were in so many fights all you guys needed was mud or an oil of some kind and it would be awesome!"

The two men stop and stare off into space.

"Oh, my god, just got a visual," Sam says now. "Best conversation ever!"

"Quick! Think about Finn's mailman! Think about Finn's mailman!" Mike jokes now.

"Naw, Coach Beiste!" Sam says now.

Santana and Quinn glare at Mike and Sam.

Quinn calmly comes up to Sam now and hits him on the head. "And this is why, Sam, we stopped dating. Aside from the fact that you once accused me of having rich white girl problems," she calmly says.

Mike snickers.

"Hmmm…" Sam says thoughtfully, stroking his goatee. "You do kind of have a thing for blondes, Santana."

Santana blushes as Sam continues, "I mean, Brittany? Me?"

"You forget she also has a thing for Jewish people," Mike adds. When the others look at him with quizzical looks on their faces, Mike says, "Puck! And Rachel!"

"That she does, that she does," Rachel says, chuckling, as she plants a soft kiss on Santana's cheek, looking at her wife tenderly.

Santana smiles back at her.

"Oh, god," Carlos says now, mortified. "I _so_ don't want to hear about my sister's sex life!"

"Yes, like I don't want to hear about your heterosexual mating rituals in your previous lives," Kurt says, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, yeah?" Santana looks at Kurt with a challenging glint in her eye. "Like I want to remember the fact that you once made out with Brittany? That was gross."

"Eeewww!" all the others say as one as they make faces.

"You made out with Brittany?" Carlos demands now, looking at a blushing Kurt. "What's the matter with you?"

"_Anyway_," Santana says, rolling her eyes. "Thanks for reminding me about Puck. I almost forgot I dated Puck. And I've been trying to forget that!"

"Just like we're all trying to forget that Rachel dated Puck, too!" Mike says, with a straight face, before bursting out laughing. "And wasn't Puck into Quinn, too? And you guys were all over Finn, too. Ugh, your love pentagrams were gross."

"_Pentagons_," Rachel corrects him. "You're possibly the first Asian I know who's mixed up pentagrams with pentagons."

"You could, like, do some kind of diagram like in the L-Word and…" Sam begins but his voice trails off when the others look at him.

"Why are you watching 'The L-Word'?" Mike asks him.

Sam looks down and shrugs, not knowing what to say. Carlos only laughs.

"Anyway, sex is not dating," Quinn reminds Santana now, rolling her eyes. "You taught us that."

"That's true," Santana concedes.

"You forget Rachel crushed on Mr. Schue, too!" Quinn adds.

Rachel blushes.

Santana looks at her. "Oh my god, you used to crush on Mr. Schue?"

Rachel smiles at her sheepishly. "In my defense I also had the biggest crush on Finn. And Mandy Patinkin."

Quinn grins and puts a hand over Santana's hand. "Aww, sweetie, it's okay. You're an improvement on Rachel's usually terrible taste on people."

Mike laughs. "Yeah, sure, 'cause you had the best taste in men!" he says jokingly.

Quinn glares at Mike now, before hitting him on the arm.

"Ow!" Mike says, laughing. "It's true! Jeffrey's the only one who's actually cool. And _smart._"

"There's nothing absolutely wrong about crushing on Mandy Patinkin," Sam declares now. He stands up, steps back, pretends to be holding a sword and says, in his best Mandy Patinkin voice, "_My name is Iñigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die!_"

When, in the ensuing silence, everyone just stares at him, Sam shrugs and says, "What? Princess Bride! Mandy Patinkin! Awesome movie!"

Santana rolls her eyes. "Why are we friends with you morons again?" Santana asks, putting her arm around Rachel and pulling her closer as Rachel lays her head on Santana's shoulder.

Mike and Sam look at each other, then at Santana and Rachel and say, "Because we're awesome, yo!" before they both burst out in uncontrollable fits of laughter.

"I think everyone within a hundred, maybe a thousand mile radius may have been perving on you guys though," Sam says, trying to change the topic. "I mean, those skirts, dude."

"Those skirts!" Mike agrees, eyes glazing over.

"Didn't you use to say, 'God bless the perv who invented those Cheerios skirts'?" Rachel says to Quinn now with a smile.

"Was it the same thing you used to tell yourself, Rachel, when you were checking out Santana and Quinn in those skirts?" Sam teasingly asks Rachel.

"Oh my god, was that why you joined the Celibacy Club?" Mike suddenly asks Rachel now.

"'Cause that is hot," Sam says now.

Rachel blushes, glares at Sam and Mike. "Shut up. No."

"Eeew, that just means it gives a whole new meaning to that little speech you said in the Celibacy Club before, about how 'Girls want it as much as guys do' and stuff," Quinn tells Rachel now. "I guess what you meant was, girls want it with other girls almost as much as guys want it with girls too and stuff."

Rachel's blush grows even deeper.

"Oh my god," Sam says now, laughing.

"Think about the mailman, think about mailman!" Mike jokingly tells Sam.

"I joined because Quinn _made_ me," Santana offers, pulling Rachel closer.

"I made you join to make you and Brittany stop going at it like rabbits," Quinn says matter-of-factly. "Like joining the Celibacy Club actually worked."

Santana blushes as Mike and Sam, who are sipping their coffee, almost spit the hot liquid out.

"Seriously don't want to know about my sister's sex life!" Carlos repeats now, making a disgusted face. "I'm pretty sure we've heard her and Brittany at least once when they were going at it like rabbits!"

The others laugh.

"Betcha Quinn and Santana's motto, 'It's not about the pleasing and all about the teasing' came in handy after," Sam jokes to Rachel now, whose blush grows even deeper. When everyone looks at him, he says, "What? I dated them both."

"Yes, 'cause you were working your way through the Glee Club girls, weren't you? You also dated Mercedes. Hell, even Brittany wasn't safe from you!" Quinn tells Sam now. "And when that wasn't enough, you started hitting on drag queens and transsexuals."

Sam blushes.

"Sam, hate to break it to you, but I please my woman fine," Santana says to Sam now, face all serious and straight, as her hand comes up to Rachel's back and she pulls at Rachel, planting a kiss on her cheek as she does so.

Rachel blushes again, feeling her face burning and her hands come up to fan herself as their friends collectively say, "Eeeww."

"I don't know how you did it, but you just managed to say so little and so much information in that one statement," Mike says, making a face.

Santana blushes. "Like I said, I hate all of you," she declares.

"Hey, Carlos, why do you suddenly _not _want to hear about your sister's sex life?" Rachel asks Carlos now, turning to him, with a teasing grin on her face. "Yesterday you were just asking me if the sex with your sister is better before or _after_ the marriage."

There is a silence as everyone looks at Carlos. Carlos blushes. Carlos only clears his throat, makes to shake his head, tries to swallow and takes a sip of his coffee. Everyone tries to take a drink of their coffee as well.

"And just so you know," Rachel says now, face all serious, but with a hint of mischief in her eyes and a small smirk on her lips, "It's always been great. Before and _after_."

Santana blushes as the others almost spit out their coffee. When Santana looks at Rachel with a questioning look on her face, Rachel grins and shrugs and says, "What? If you can't beat 'em, join 'em."

"Mailman, mailman!" Mike sputters jokingly now as he coughs and laughs.

"Yeah, yeah, people, I'm a better lay than Finn," Santana says, through the deep blush on her face. She looks at Mike and Sam now and says, "_Infinitely_ better lay than Finn. Write that down."

Mike and Sam laugh some more.

"Gross," Carlos comments, making a face. "Guess I got more than I bargained for! TMI, you guys, TMI."

"Great vote of confidence there, yo!" Sam says, giving both Rachel and Santana the thumb's up sign.

"Ugh, you guys are pigs!" Quinn comments.

"What? Now that Rachel and Santana are gay, and you're not as batshit crazy as you were in high school, we can talk about something _other_ than boys with you guys," Sam says. "Now we can talk about _girls_!"

Santana rolls her eyes. "Oh my god, I'd forgotten about Finn's mailman. Between Finn, Sam, Artie and Kurt, and now Mike… it's enough to turn anyone a lesbian in McKinley!" and here she turns to Mike with a scolding look on her face, "And Mike, I'm so disappointed in you."

"Hey!" Kurt and Mike both say at the same time.

"Sorry," Santana says, with a smile.

Mike turns to Sam now. "Whatever you do, _don't_ think about Finn's mailman or Coach Beiste when you're out with Kurt."

Sam and Kurt blush again as Kurt manages to say, "Hey!"

"What? Although, if you close your eyes and listen to Kurt, it's just like dating a girl," Mike jokes now. "Same high-pitched voice and stuff. Skin as smooth as a baby's. Face always perfectly exfoliated, hair perfectly gelled and coiffed and stuff. Always with the wardrobes. And he shimmies like a girl, too."

Santana stares at Mike. "I'm confused. I don't know about Sam dating Kurt, but I'm starting to think _you_ want to date Kurt," Santana tells Mike.

Mike blushes.

"_Anyway_," Kurt interrupts now, clearing his throat and squirming in his seat, face still red, and looking at Santana pointedly, "Now that we know you guys are all morons and that Santana is a great wife to my best friend…"

"Aaww, Kurt, Rachel is a great wife, too," Santana says now, twining her fingers with Rachel's and leaning over to kiss her on the cheek. She looks at Sam and Mike and announces, "Rachel got me tickets to the San Diego Comic Con!"

"Oh my god!" Sam says.

"No freaking way!" Mike says. "So jealous!"

As the two start gushing over Santana's tickets to Comic Con as Carlos, Kurt and Quinn do their eye rolls, Sam tells Santana, "That is true love, dude!"

Santana grins at them then looks tenderly at Rachel. "I know. I know."

Kurt rolls his eyes and tries to steer the conversation back to what they were talking about earlier and looks at Santana, "You were _saying?_"

Santana reluctantly pulls her gaze from her wife, sighs and looks at their friends. "I was _saying_," Santana resumes, "What are you guys doing here?"

Kurt grins now. "Your wedding present. We forgot to give it to you yesterday."

"Yeah," Sam pipes up now, sufficiently recovering from his embarrassment to join in on the conversation.

"Guys, I thought I said you didn't have to give us anything, just…donate to your favorite charity or something," Santana says now, then, looking at Rachel, she smiles and says, "That's what Rachel would've wanted."

Rachel smiles now, touched at what Santana is saying. "Aaw, honey," she says, smiling lovingly at her wife.

"Before you guys drop all pretenses and start making out in front of us," Quinn interrupts, rolling her eyes, "Which…eww, by the way…We came to say, we _are_ donating to charity."

Rachel looks back at their friends now and with a puzzled look on her face, asks, "What?"

Quinn and the others grin as each one pulls out a long, white, business envelope, drops it on the table and slides the envelopes all towards Rachel.

"Mercedes' is there, too, by the way," Quinn informs her. "She would have come, too, except she has to go back to California or something."

Rachel, looking even more curious and puzzled, picks one up, looks up at her friends, and eyebrows raised, looks for permission to open one. "Sure, go ahead," Quinn says, encouragingly, smiling at her.

Rachel lifts the flap off of one, and when she sees what's inside, she knits her eyebrows as she pulls the paper out half-way then puts it back. "I don't understand…" she begins uncertainly.

The others are quiet as she states, "This is a check."

"Yep," Sam says now.

"What's the check for?" Rachel wonders now.

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Santana told me your big idea."

"And Quinn told _us_ your big idea," Sam supplies.

"And we thought we'd help," Mike says eagerly.

"And us, too," Carlos adds.

"I mean, it's not much," Sam says, uncertainly, "But it's the thought that counts, right?"

Rachel turns to Santana now. "Honey, I thought we agreed we wouldn't discuss this with our family and friends until I've got things sorted out."

Santana smiles sheepishly and guiltily, "Baby, I kind of just mentioned it in passing to Quinn. I didn't know Quinn would _blab_ about it to _everyone_. Like that one time you _blabbed_ about my summer surgery to everyone." At the last part of her statement, Santana tries to glare at Quinn, but there is also a tell-tale Platonic affection in her eyes, too, for her closest friend. Quinn rolls her eyes and only smirks at Santana.

Rachel smiles to herself, knowing by now that this is how the two show their affection to each other in this strange, roundabout way, after all, the two always being there for each other in that way that almost made Rachel jealous before, when Rachel and Santana started dating. But now though, Rachel finds their friendship quite endearing and touching.

"Whatever," Quinn says now, waving a hand dismissively in the air, as if stating that they are done discussing it. "You told us to give to charity as a wedding gift and we're doing just that."

Sam, Mike and the others smile their agreement.

Rachel first looks at Santana, then the others, and she finds herself biting her lower lip, realizes a lump is again, annoyingly forming in her throat and her eyes are misting over. "You guys…" she starts, realizes her voice is shaking, then she starts again, "You guys didn't have to do this…" When the others just look at her, she says, "I mean, this is wonderful…but you didn't have to do this…"

"Aaww, sweetie, but we want to," Quinn says now, smiling.

"Yeah," Sam agrees. "What we would give to see again that funny face you make when you're about to cry because something we did made you cry."

Quinn glares at Sam to shut him up. Then Quinn continues, "I mean, we know you guys have been through a lot. Especially you, these past few months, and you know, it's…just a way for us to show our support and stuff…"

"Yeah, damn those…conservative homophobes!" Sam says now. "They're like…the Sith or something! Or Sauron! Or the Decepticons!"

Quinn turns and glares at Sam. "Don't help me."

Mike snorts in laughter and would have continued to do so had Quinn not glared at him in turn.

"The thing is, we just want to help, okay?" Quinn says. "I mean, you're still annoying, being all goody-two shoes and all, but you're our annoying, high maintenance friend, Rachel," she jokes. "And we're still the only ones allowed to make fun of you."

The others laugh as Rachel blushes.

Quinn smiles now and leans over. "So, Rachel, tell us more about this big idea you have."

Rachel smiles now as Mike spies that she is finished with her cup of coffee and offers her more coffee.

Sam stops Mike though. "Wait. Do we really want a hyper, caffeine-addled Rachel Berry first thing in the morning?"

Mike grins. "Hell yeah! It would feel like high school all over again. It's certainly better than her funny faces!"

Sam and Mike look at Rachel, look at each other then laugh again.

Quinn rolls her eyes and hits Sam and Mike on the head.

"Ah, nothing like high school friends to bring you right back to earth," Rachel muses now, looking at Sam and Mike still laughing. "No matter how far you've come."

Then, Sam snorts now and eyes glazing over, he happily says, "Dude, Santana's summer surgery when she had her twins augmented! Boobs!"

"Sam, I'm right here," Rachel tells him.

"Yeah, Rachel already has dibs on those," Mike says. He leans over to Sam. "On _both_ of them."

Rachel blushes.

"Aaaw," Sam says in mock dejection. "So, which one do you prefer, the right breast or the left one?"

As Rachel says, "I like them both," Santana, at the same time, says, "I'm right here!" as she glares at Sam.

"So, are you a boob person or an ass person?" Sam continues teasingly, to Rachel, wriggling his eyebrows at Santana. "'Cause that ass on Santana is awesome!"

Carlos and Santana now glare at Sam and Carlos hits Sam before Santana does. "Don't talk about my sister like that, man."

"Sorry, dude," Sam says now, face serious as he rubs the back of his head.

Santana continues to glare at Sam. "Sam, were you, quite possibly, dropped on your head when you were a baby?" Santana asks.

Mike laughs.

"_Anyway_," Quinn says, raising his eyebrows in curiosity. "Tell us your big idea."

Rachel shrugs. "It's…it's not much," she begins, hesitantly, as she looks at Santana for encouragement and assurance. Santana smiles, squeezes her hand and nods encouragingly at her. "But…"

Just as she is about to start, Dr. Lopez and Mrs. Lopez come in and she smiles at them.

Rachel finally tells them.

She wants to start a not-for profit organization, that centers solely on music as a way to keep vulnerable young people off the streets. The idea began when she was teaching in Brooklyn, and the idea grew when she saw how her kids responded to Glee Club, how these kids, who were repeatedly branded underachievers, losers, kids with dead-end futures and dead-end lives finally turning their lives around when they were offered an alternative, an alternative that would focus their energies on something other than hooking up, getting pregnant, drugs, prostitution, gangs and so on. Rachel is not naïve, knows starting an organization could not begin to solve the problems American kids are having today, from the poverty, to the drugs to other social problems, but she thinks that starting somewhere, is better than starting nowhere.

Rachel is surprised that she has not realized this sooner, but that is because, bar the fact that she and her wife and her former fellow Glee Club members kept getting slushied and shoved into lockers and kept being made fun of, they were still actually luckier than the kids she'd taught at Taft. For some strange reason, McKinley kept getting funding for extravagant musical productions, costumes, buses, back-up musicians and so on, while her Taft kids, and her Taft classes in general, constantly struggled with budgets, lack of textbooks, classrooms that were too cold in the winter, vans that kept breaking down, overcrowded classrooms, facilities that were never enough and so on.

She had still wanted to teach, but she had also wanted to continue with Broadway, wanted to sing as long as she could, but still be able to spend time with her family and continue with this newfound passion of teaching kids, but with her own rules and her own brand of teaching.

She grows excited as she tells this to her family and friends, and they lean over, listen attentively, asking interested questions, and after a while, her excitement, infectious as ever, grows on them and it doesn't take long before the others express excitement as well, especially when she mentions that it isn't just for her, or for the Beatz, but also, in a way, for Brittany as well, who had loved music and dance. They all fall silent at this last bit, but then all smile fondly at the memory of Brittany and Quinn says it all when she says, softly, voice cracking, "Brittany would have loved that."

* * *

A few weeks before Comic Con, Santana brings her wife and Suzie somewhere after lunch at Luigi's. Santana and Suzie say it's a surprise and do not tell Rachel where it is and they blindfold Rachel.

The ride doesn't take long, and in a few moments, Rachel feels the car roll to a stop.

Santana gently pulls Rachel out of the car, whispering softly, "Take it easy now, baby, just a few steps now, easy."

Santana instructs her wife to follow her lead as they walk up to a few steps.

Rachel hears Santana's keys rattle and something click and Santana leads Rachel into a place. She hears Suzie squeal in delight, her squeal echoing through what Rachel perceives to be an empty space. She smells something musty and dusty and moldy and she coughs a little at the combined smell.

"You ready, baby?" Santana asks now.

Rachel nods.

"Okay," Santana says, and she takes a deep breath and says, "Okay, you can take off the blindfold now."

As Rachel slowly pulls down the handkerchief covering her eyes, she blinks at first, adjusting to the semi-darkness. But then, Santana turns the switch on and the space is illuminated and Rachel can see a small, modest space, of cobwebs, dust, mold, and wallpaper and paint falling off, from the walls and from the ceiling.

"It isn't much, baby, right now," Santana says, uncertainly, "But with a little clean-up, and repainting the walls and stuff, I think this could be a very cool space for your little foundation."

As Rachel takes in the empty space now, it slowly dawns on her what Santana has just done for her. She looks at Santana now who looks at her a little apologetically who says, "I'm sorry baby. I kind of mentioned it to Miranda. I know you don't like her, but she mentioned that her family's just had this building lying around and she says she wouldn't mind renting it out this space to us for a modest fee seeing as it's for charity and all anyway. She says she's a big fan of yours from when you were on Broadway and that's why she wanted to meet you that one time during Thanksgiving and all and…"

Rachel doesn't let her finish as she rushes up to Santana and practically jumps on her.

She catches Santana off-guard and they almost fall to the floor had it not been for Santana bracing herself and standing firmly on the ground, wrapping her arms around Rachel.

"Honey, this is _perfect_," Rachel says now, planting a long, slow, deep kiss on Santana's lips. "I love you."

Santana laughs as she kisses her back.

"I love you, too," Santana says, as Suzie yelps in delight in the background.

"I've got another surprise for you," Santana whispers after the kiss.

Rachel wonders what it is, but suddenly she hears noise from behind, by the front door, and she sees her Glee Club, the Beatz, with Gloria and Mr. Smith, and curiously, Sam and Kurt, all of them grinning widely at Rachel, Santana and Suzie. Behind them, Rachel can see Kate and Kate's mom, both smiling at them as well. Suzie squeals in delight as she sees Kate and skips off to her, before stopping in front of her and suddenly going all shy and scuffing her feet on the floor. Meanwhile, the Beatz approach Rachel.

"Hi ya, Miz B!"

"How ya doin, Miz B!"

"Came to help clean the place up, Miz B!"

"And ask if you've thought more about naming your baby Blue Berry!"

"We got no money, Miz B, for gifts, but we can do this instead!"

"Yeah, especially since you made us promise no drug money and no muggin' or bullyin' no one for money!...Just kiddin' Miz B!"

"Yeah, anyway, Zee be awesome with a mop and a broom! He a regular da Vinci that one!"

"Enough talk! Clean the place up for Captain!"

"Alright, alright, Kareem! So bossy!"

"Ya know what this needs? Some music, y'all! Hit it!"

Then before Rachel can respond to any of the exchange, somebody places a player and speakers near the door, and starts playing the first strains of the Wallflowers' song, "Heroes" starts to play. Each person is either brandishing a broom, or a mop, or a feather duster, or a rag or a bucket and the kids, Gloria, Mr. Smith, Kurt, Sam, Suzie, Kate, Kate's mom spread out on the space and start cleaning the place up, pulling away old wallpaper, wiping cobwebs away from corners, ceilings, nooks and crannies, sweeping dust away, wiping away at the grimy walls and windows, mopping at the floor. A couple of kids bring in a couple buckets of paint as another lays out newspapers on the floor and the nauseating smell of paint starts to permeate the place as the kids begin to put a fresh coat of paint on one of the walls.

"_I, I wish you could swim_

_Like the dolphins, like dolphins can swim_

_Though nothing, nothing can keep us together_

_We can beat them, forever and ever_

_We can be heroes, just for one day…"_

As Santana grins and accepts a broom handed to her, she puts her hair up in a bun and puts an apron on. She then winks at her wife and says, grinning, "Well, what are you waiting for? Come clean the place up with me."

Rachel smiles, wondering what she did to deserve all this, and she makes to say something, but instead, accepts the rag given her and starts to help clean the windows up.

* * *

Rachel names her foundation "Music Is Life" Foundation. The name is inspired by Zee's essay on Nina Simone's song "I Wish I Could Know What it Means to be Free" and Simon and Garfunkel's "The Sound of Silence".

But then one day, as Santana stares at the paper that certifies that the "Music is Life" Foundation now officially exists, over breakfast with her wife and daughter, Santana suddenly almost spits out her coffee and almost chokes on it, and coughing and sputtering, she says, "Baby, you kind of missed something."

"Miss what?" Rachel asks, puzzled, as she leans over and stares at the paper.

Santana struggles not to laugh, so it ends up being a playful grin, but there is a mischievous glint in her eye. "Baby, the acronym of your foundation is MILF. You just established a foundation that can be called MILF for short."

As Rachel stares at Santana, puzzled, Santana cannot help the laughter that suddenly explodes from her even as Suzie stares at them, puzzled.

As realization sinks in, Rachel stares at the paper then at Santana and says, in horror, "Oh, god."

Santana stops laughing as she sees the panic in Rachel's eyes. Santana clears her throat. "Baby, I'm sorry. It's fine. It's a great name."

"_MILF_ is a great name?!" Rachel asks now, looking at Santana before her hands go up to her face.

Santana knits her eyebrows as she stands up, moves to Rachel, and, putting a hand over Rachel's back, starts rubbing her. "Breathe, baby, _breathe_. It's okay. I think it's an awesome name."

Rachel looks up from her hands and frowns at Santana. "My great idea to save the world through music is named _MILF_, honey. How is that awesome?"

Santana is quiet, watching Rachel bite her lower lip. Suzie is quiet, too, not knowing what to say, face confused and puzzled as to why Rachel is upset. Silence reigns in the Berry Lopez household as they all take in what Rachel has just said.

Finally, Santana says, "You look cute when you're upset."

Rachel looks up at her and frowns. "San…"

Santana only slowly grins. "I'm serious. You look really hot when you're upset."

"Eeww," Suzie says, making a face. "It's too early for this…"

Rachel looks at Suzie and Santana, who are both grinning now, and she cannot help but smile inspite of herself.

Santana, still grinning, moves to embrace Rachel and murmurs, in her ear, "It's okay, babe. So what if it's MILF for short? I think it's an awesome name." She smiles at Rachel and plants a kiss on her cheek. "And you are kind of MILF-ish. Even with your tube socks and granny pan…I mean…_under_garments…"

"I don't wear tube socks," Rachel says, haughtily, frowning again. "And those undergarments…ugh…that was just the one time…"

When Suzie snickers, they realize she is still in the room, watching fascinated at her parents' exchange. "You called them undergarments," she says, as she giggles. "And what's MILF?"

Santana smiles. "It's…something grown-ups call mothers who are still hot even if they have kids already, kiddo."

"Like _Abuela?_" Suzie asks.

It is Santana and Rachel's turn to make a disgusted face.

"No, eeww," Santana says now, shuddering. "More like…your mom, kiddo," Santana says, looking at Rachel now with a smile.

"Like you too, Mom?" Suzie asks Santana now, with a smile.

Santana grins. "And that's how I know you're my daughter, kiddo," she says, chuckling as she moves to ruffle their daughter's hair.

Suzie grins.

Santana turns back to Rachel now and hugs her again. "Baby, it's fine. It's not a biggie. Just include the 'Inc.' after it."

Rachel looks thoughtful now as she puts her hand on Santana's arm. "You sure it's okay?" she asks uncertainly.

"Baby, it's okay," Santana says more firmly now. "You're organization is going to be awesome, okay?"

Rachel looks at her now and Santana nods, a soft, tender look on her face. Her eyes move to Suzie's and Suzie smiles encouragingly, putting a thumb's up sign to her mother for good measure. Rachel couldn't help the smile that spreads on her face now.

"Well…" she says uncertainly now as she looks from her wife to her daughter and back. "If you guys think it's okay…"

Santana and Suzie nod vigorously now. "Oh, yes, Mee. I think it's totally awesome," Suzie says now.

"Yeah. I mean, I like what it stands for. And it means something because your student wrote about it and it's what gave you the inspiration to start it in the first place. I mean, we already know music _is_ life." Santana points out. "Just don't use the acronym so much."

Suzie giggles. "Hey, Mee…"

"What?" Rachel says.

Suzie starts singing,

"_We live in a dream  
If we really think  
Everything's alright  
This world is in need  
Crying out to be freed  
We gotta shed some light…"_

Rachel knits her eyebrows, wondering what the song is. She looks to Santana and Santana shakes her head.

"Aaww, you don't know this song?" Suzie says now, grinning.

Her mothers shake their heads.

Suzie rolls her eyes. "'We Can Make a Difference'. Jaci Velasquez."

"I don't know that song," Santana says now.

"Me neither," Rachel admits.

"Aw, come on, Mom, I can't believe you don't know her, she's Hispanic after all," Suzie says, grinning. "_Abuela_ likes her songs."

"I'm sorry, kiddo, I don't keep tabs on all the Hispanic music that's out there," Santana says grinning.

"Okay, but I think I win!" Suzie says.

"Hold up, we're not done yet," Santana says. "My turn!" Then Santana starts singing,

"_I'm Gonna Make A Change,  
For Once In My Life  
It's Gonna Feel Real Good,  
Gonna Make A Difference  
Gonna Make It Right . . ."_

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Too easy. 'Man in the Mirror'. Michael Jackson. My turn!" Then Rachel starts singing,

"_If you need me, call me_

_No matter where you are, no matter how far_

_Just call my name, I'll be there in a hurry_

_On that you can depend and never worry…"  
_

"Even easier!" Santana says now, chuckling. "'Ain't No Mountain High Enough'. Diana Ross. Or Marvin Gaye. Either way you lose."

"And I win!" Suzie says now. "Pizza if I win, right?"

Both women look at her, mock defeated looks on their faces. Santana sighs. "Okay."

Suzie squeals in delight. "Yay! Pizza!"

Santana and Rachel grin at her.

"You can still make a difference, Mee, even if the name of your organization is all weird like that," she says, with an encouraging smile on her face.

Rachel smiles back. "Aw, honey, thank you."

"Anytime, Mee, anytime," Suzie says now, grinning.

* * *

Rachel's Glee kids from Taft, the Beatz, all finish junior year, and go on to finish senior year, save for Jamal, who, except for English, was actually flunking all his other subjects. The sophomores finish their second year and go on to finish junior and senior year at Taft. Some, like Anferny, Kareem, Zee, Kenyatta, go on to community colleges and universities. Others finish shorter courses, but overall, all of them stick to the straight narrow. They all keep in touch with Rachel long after their high school and college graduation, although eventually some lose touch with her, and some, who staunchly keep in touch with her, leave fewer and fewer emails or messages in her inbox or her mobile phone, but what she does know is that all of them stick to the straight and narrow, none are involved in drugs, prostitution or violent crime, and though not all of them end up being rich and famous, most do try to live honorable, honest lives, and for this Rachel is thankful. If she is doubtful of the impact one teacher can have on her students, her Taft High kids remove all that.

Taft doesn't lose its teachers, and its Arts funding is still not what it used to be, but the success of the Beatz makes the school district officials, the New York Board of Education, Congress and everyone else who has a stake or an interest in education and the Arts think twice about instituting reforms and cutting funding without studying the impact of extracurricular activities and the Arts on high school education. As it turns out, just from looking at Rachel's teaching techniques, approaches and methods, and her success with the Beatz, Arts did matter and music, as Zee has pointed out, _is_ life. Is _everything_. The Beatz stay, but without Rachel as adviser, they are not as cohesive as before. Taft does offer Rachel the job again, but as Rachel is now busy with Broadway and with putting together her foundation, she turns it down, much to the disappointment of the Taft high school administration and the Brooklyn School District. The Beatz understand though. Rachel was publicly fired and embarrassed and outed after all.

However, news of Rachel's plans for a foundation is met by the Beatz and Rachel's students with much excitement and enthusiasm and when they eagerly offer their services, the last bits of the puzzle fall into place, and Rachel figures out how to do it: she would get youth volunteers, would do peer mentoring, would get her kids to teach and train and mentor other young people about music and singing and dancing and share the joy of discovering and the power of music. She thinks later, maybe she can add some theater as well, once she settles into this.

When she presents this idea to the Beatz and a few of her former high school literature students, the kids do not know what to say, are equal parts confused, surprised, overwhelmed, curious, wary, suspicious, puzzled, but as Rachel explains her plan, a few warm up to her idea and she has at least three-fourths of her club volunteering for her foundation before they graduate from high school.

It is a win-win situation for the kids and for Rachel. The Glee kids and students help out and get volunteering and work experience, whilst being able to stay out of trouble, and they get to learn and share their skills as well.

A music company shows interest in the Beatz and actually have them record a couple of tracks which they are paid for after, but nothing comes out of it after, and the record is released on iTunes after. The kids receive money for every sale though and they do not mind.

Eventually though, a little-known, independent documentary filmmaker, Luna Later, a tall, thin, no-nonsense, almost asexual and androgynous woman in her thirties with perpetually disheveled long blonde hair, known for her eccentric and idiosyncratic ways, takes interest in the Brooklyn Beatz and their Glee Club adviser, Rachel Berry, and starts to document their practices, Rachel's first few sessions with the street kids and high school students in the community around Brooklyn, street kids and high school students who have taken interest in Rachel's little foundation, then when the Beatz get invited to perform at events, she starts filming that as well. A year later, and many struggles on funding and distribution later, Luna Later's documentary on Rachel Berry and the Beatz is released, entitled, "The Learning Curve" and it becomes a hit in the film festival circuit in the United States, Canada and Europe, in Sundance, San Francisco, Berlin and Cannes. DVDs and the digital format, on Netflix, are released after.

More importantly, Rachel Berry and the Beatz become even more recognizable and of course, Rachel Berry's Broadway producers for their Barbara Streisand musical, tentatively titled, "Evergreen", are thrilled.

But on a bigger level, what the publicity surrounding the Beatz initial protests, the media attention, their media appearances, Rachel Berry's foundation, the runaway hit documentary "The Learning Curve" achieve, is catching the attention of the major players and decision makers of American high school education, in a much more fundamental, long-term way. Rachel Berry's success with the Beatz and her foundation, make it possible for the decisionmakers to listen, finally, to the importance of the Arts, and Rachel Berry finds the New York Board of Education tapping her expertise for teaching the Arts and Rachel finds herself working as a consultant for the Board of Education as they try to replicate her success in Taft.

In a few months, slowly and painstakingly, more innovative ways to keep youth in school through the Arts, specifically through music and Glee Club are done and shared in other schools and school districts in the other boroughs of New York. In a year, the surrounding states express interest in the new Arts program that Rachel, her foundation and her consultancy with the New York Board of Education produce. It is slow, but sure, but Rachel has never felt so proud of this achievement.

* * *

The Barbra Streisand Broadway Musical, "Evergreen", opens on Broadway quietly one night in autumn, Santana and Suzie, along with Kurt, Sam, Rachel's fathers and the elder Lopezes watch it together. The musical is a modest hit, although by no means a critical one, but Barbra Streisand fans love it and keep the ticket returns coming. Critics praise Rachel's self-deprecating, self-aware, tongue-in-cheek portrayal of the main character, Lizzie, and they love how the musical doesn't take itself seriously, adding a tinge of ironic humor and satire into what could have been yet another coming-of-age, "A-Star-is-Born" story, peppering the musical with known Barbra Streisand hits as well as some infectious original songs that the audience can dance to. The musical even gets Barbra Streisand's approval and there is a renewed interest in her music, movies and other works. Rachel records the soundtrack of "Evergreen" after.

Surprisingly, "Evergreen" gets recognized at the Tonys as a breakout Broadway hit, and though it does not win the top awards, it does earn Rachel a Tony for best actress in a musical. Surprisingly, though Rachel is honored by the recognition, she tells her wife later that none of it mattered, really, if Santana and Suzie weren't in her life.

Santana grins as she holds her wife that night, and raises an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

Rachel offers her a little smile. "Well, I have to admit it's kind of awesome I won an award."

Santana rolls her eyes and smiles at her as she plants a kiss on her wife's face. "Baby, it's a Tony. Isn't that some kind of Holy Grail for Broadway actors or something? And I'm pretty sure you've probably been dreaming of that since birth." She kisses Rachel lightly again. "It's okay to really be jazzed about winning it."

Rachel looks at her intently for a few moments, then laughs and moves to kiss her.

"I'm serious," Santana says now, as her hands come up to leave a trail all over Rachel's body.

"I'm serious, too," Rachel says as she leans over to kiss her wife. "If I were the younger Rachel Berry, yes, this would have been everything I ever wanted, a hit Broadway musical show, a Tony, recognition, respect, whatever…and yes, it's kind of cool that I won a Tony, sure…but…"

"But?" Santana prods, an eyebrow raised in curious amusement.

Rachel looks at her now, eyes filled with clarity and genuine honesty, "None of that would have mattered if you and Suzie weren't in my life. What makes it all the more…_satisfying_ is the fact that you _are_ in my life and that's making me happier and more fulfilled than anything else and that's all that matters."

Santana looks at her now before a slow grin spreads on her face. She leans over to give her wife a slow, long, deep kiss before she pulls away and, with a playful tone in her voice, she says, laughingly "What a sap you are!"

Rachel laughs as she leans in for another kiss. "I love you," she whispers.

"I love you, too," Santana says now, a tender look passing through her face as she does.

* * *

Rachel looks at the massive, square, gray, faded square brick building, the newly painted sign "Music Is Life Foundation, Inc." hanging off the side, swinging faintly in the wind. The building looks old, but imposing, but it doesn't give Rachel the kind of sense of foreboding she felt before as she stood in front of the William Howard Taft High School building that time more than year ago. What it gives her though is a sense of excitement as she sits inside Santana's car, a few meters from the building, watching Zee, who has come early that Saturday morning, stamp his feet in the cold as he waits for her.

An early autumn breeze blows outside and she sees the leaves and branches of the trees sway with the breeze. Despite being inside the comfortable warmth of the car, she absently pulls her coat towards herself and shivers. She suddenly feels herself grow nervous as she watches Zee easily engage with a few of the young people who have dropped by the building to hang out with her and Zee. As she watches each one, she already knows that the young people have darker olive skins, some like Zee's, some like Santana's - different from those she used to see at McKinley High in Lima, Ohio. Where the likes of her and Finn and Kurt were the majority in the school, she could see that they were the minority here, with only a couple or so pale-skinned young people in the crowd. It reminds her of when she was in Taft, actually, where she stood out as well as a white teacher. She should feel a bit out of place, but she doesn't. As she sits and stares out, she feels a small wave of fear, anxiety, like she is way in over her head and all she can think of is asking her wife to turn the car around and going home. The car purrs softly, engine humming, as the stereo softly plays "Seasons of Love".

She realizes she's not in Manhattan anymore.

She remembers this is really Brooklyn now.

Suddenly she wonders if this is a good idea.

She swallows, hesitates, takes a deep breath, lifts her hands and notices that they are shaking slightly.

But then, Santana, who has been quietly sitting behind the wheel, waiting for Rachel to speak or say anything, turns and her hand snakes out and she holds Rachel's between hers.

"Are you okay, baby?" Santana asks now, concern and love apparent in her eyes.

Rachel swallows and looks at her. She nods her head, despite the sudden nervousness she suddenly feels.

"Breathe baby, breathe," Santana says now, as one hand comes up to start rubbing Rachel's back. Her hand is warm, soothing, gentle on Rachel's back. "You can do this baby. You already took on Brooklyn's kids, Taft, the Brooklyn School District, the New York Board of Education, met the President, won a Tony…this should be a walk in the park for you."

Rachel cannot help the smile that now slowly spreads on her face. Santana, encouraged by that smile, goes on to say, "A piece of cake."

Rachel offers a small laugh. "We have been through a lot, haven't we?" she says now.

Santana shrugs. "And…we'll go through a lot more, baby," Santana says. "But as long as we're together, we'll get through _anything_." She offers Rachel a big, encouraging smile now, as she puts a hand up and tenderly runs a hand on Rachel's cheek.

They gaze at each other in silence for a few moments.

Finally, Rachel says, "Thanks for driving me here now. I could have taken the subway or the bus you know."

Santana rolls her eyes. "I said I'd drive you to work and that's that," she simply says.

They look at each other for a few more moments before Santana leans over and kisses Rachel. Rachel meets her half-way and puts her hand up to cup Santana's face in her hands.

"I love you," Rachel whispers.

"I love you, too," Santana whispers back, as she watches Rachel run her hand through her hair. She tucks stray hairs behind Rachel's ear. "Call me if you get any problems, or if you need me to beat someone up for you."

Rachel chuckles. "Okay."

"You sure you're going to be okay?" Santana asks now as she watches Rachel grab her things in the backseat.

Rachel nods as she slips the strap of her bag on her shoulder. She leans over to kiss Santana again.

"I'll pick you up later?" Santana asks. "Pizza at Luigi's?"

"Okay."

"Wish me luck!" Rachel says now, as she makes to open the car.

"Luck!" Santana says now, a grin on her face.

Before Rachel opens the car door, she leans over again and kisses her wife. "I love you."

"I love you, too. Now please go," Santana says, with a grin on her face and mock annoyance in her tone. "Have a great day."

Rachel smiles. "You, too. I'll see you later."

As she looks at the building now, Rachel realizes something.

Rachel realizes that second acts and new beginnings are possible.

She realizes the possibilities are endless.

She realizes her life has barely just begun.

* * *

**_Author's end notes:_**

**_That's it for this chapter and for this story. I'd like to say thank you to everyone for reading, reviewing, following, adding this story to your favorites, your private messages, the many encouraging reviews and comments, without which this story wouldn't have been finished. :-) Special loads of thanks to my beta and friend, DragonsWillFly, who has stuck with me and this story through wind, snow, rain, floods, blizzards ad infinitum, without whom every chapter would have had more typos and punctuation than it should. :-) Thanks, Dragon!_**

**_Like this story? Spread the word! Favorite, review, follow, ad infinitum. ;) Also, my beta and I are kind of bummed this story I've been writing for more than four months now is over, so your reviews would really do us a solid right now._**

**_Also, Happy New Year to everyone! May the New Year bring all of you prosperity, blessings, good health and much luck. :-)_**

**_You may skip this next part (it's just me having an extended end note :))._**

**_I must say, now that this story is done, my beta and I are, as I said, kind of bummed out a bit. As I may have mentioned before, I never did have the inclination to read or write fan fic before until Glee came along (I've written stories before, but not fan fic :-)). Glee left so much to be desired and the past few seasons have consistently been awful that it seemed reading Brittana fan fic was actually better than watching the actual show. :) So I guess that's one good thing that came out of that! I used to blog about this show before (and this is why I took issue with that dig about bloggers in season 4) and this one seems more effective than blogging ever will be. I've always tried to write stories before, but I never get past chapter 5 or 10, and now I realize that I guess the secret to finishing a long story is 1) having readers who like what you write, 2) having a beta who's awesome and 3) having something to say about something - and believe me, I have lots of things to say about Glee. :) I think this story, if anything, has illustrated all the issues I've had with the show for so long. :) What started out as my beta and I geeking out and complaining about all the stuff that's wrong about Glee turned out to be this very long story. :) I've thus kind of realized writing fan fic is actually much more fun and in some ways a more empowering way to deal with Glee. Thanks to everyone for taking this journey with me and for trusting me enough to take you wherever the story took me. :)_**

**_I may or may not be taking a break from this 'verse, as I am still working out the kinks of the next story (plot, themes, characters, etc.) but there may be some other story ideas in the works. :) Glee kind of just makes it too easy for me (and probably other writers) to write stories about Glee. Glee is kind of my playground and nothing is safe from me. hahaha! ;)_**

**_Now on to your comments:_**

**_To yanval/Yanna - Hi. Thanks for reading, reviewing and following all three stories. Glad you love my writing, my stories and the characters - I wanted to make a 'verse that was very unlike how Glee has been portraying the women, the lesbians, the minorities, and how even an actual Glee Club (or school) is run. ;) My beta and I would like to say thank you for the greetings. Hope you enjoyed the ending. Happy New Year! :)_**

**_To parker88 - Hey. :) Again, thanks for reading and reviewing. I hope you liked this chapter and ending. Re: Only excited for the end because that makes way for the next chapter in Rachel, Santana and Suzie's life, duh :-) -hahaha! Sorry, for a hardcore geek, I process slow sometimes. Apologies. _:-) _Hahaha! There's a new story in the works, but trying to figure it out first before I release it. Not making any promises, but hope you can wait for it. :) As for Rachel's fathers, yes, I think a full-on surprise wedding might have convinced them Santana only wants to do right by their daughter. As for Santana's grandmother, yes, it's her version of calling a truce and yes, weddings might possibly bring out the warm and fuzzies in everybody. Thanks for the greetings and Happy New Year to you, too. Your greets made the beta happy so thanks for that. :) Happy New Year! ;)_**

**_To MelovePezberry - Hey! Good to have you back! Glad you love the wedding, movie stuff, Tia Evita, Sam and Carlos, those who came and those who taped a massage, thought some fluff overload was in order. :) Thanks for reading and reviewing. Hope you liked this ending. Happy New Year!_**

**_To kutee - Hi! Glad you think the wedding was perfect. Yes, I couldn't resist a funny "Four Weddings and a Funeral" type of Pezberry wedding (I love this movie afterall!) As for Rachel's dads, well, I think except for Rachel and Santana, no one seems to have a filter around them. Haha! :) As for Kate's Mom being transgender - yes, I wanted to portray an integrated MTF transgender without it turning out into some kind of PSA mess like in Glee. Glad you loved the message from those who didn't attend and from Suzie as well. :-) Re: Best Fan Fiction Pezberry Wedding EVER! :-D - Thanks! That means a lot! Thanks for reading and reviewing, thanks for the holiday greets and Happy New Year to you! ;)_**

**_To xphrnzrjh - Hi! Thanks for reading and reviewing, glad you loved the wedding. I thought it might be a good idea to include a Jewish wedding, as the show rarely actually explores Rachel's Jewishness except for the random "I'm a big Barbra Streisand" fan lines. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and this ending. :-)_**

**_To amazinglife18 - Hi! Glad you loved out-of-this-world Tia Evita, the rabbi and the Jewish part of the wedding. :) As for Sam being his usual dorky self, haha! Yes, it is funny and sad, isn't it? Glad you loved the speeches and the videos. As for the Beatz singing, yes, it is like law, isn't it? :) As for Blue being the front runner for the Pezberry baby, yes, it seems like it. :) Yes, I think Rachel's fathers making an effort is a good thing, too. Yes, just for the surprise ending being all kinds of awesome, Santana does deserve all that Rachel is willing to give. Thanks for your holiday greets, you've made my beta happy. :) Hope you enjoyed this chapter and thanks as always for reading and reviewing. Happy New Year!_**

**_To ichigo111981 - Hey. Thanks for reading and reviewing. Glad you think it's a pretty awesome wedding. As for Blue being the baby name now and Suzie being one persuasive little girl - seems like it. :) Thanks for the holiday greets and hope you enjoyed this chapter and ending. Happy New Year!_**

**_To CarolineSC - Hey, thanks for reading and reviewing. Happy New Year!_**

**_To kickangel - Hey. Thanks for reading and reviewing. :) Yes, there were a few shout outs to films in this one. Glad you loved chapter 29. :) As for the wedding, yes, Rachel totally deserves an extravagant wedding and I do like to think of Santana as this kind of person who can pull out all the stops for a wedding as a grand romantic gesture. :) Because in my mind, Santana is always awesome. :) Thanks for saying you'd look forward to anything I would write, happy to know you are onboard with anything I would write. It's true, I do try to ignore things not directly involved with character growth. And thanks for saying I am doing justice to all of them and all the OCs I've included so far - I do try to do right by these characters, OC or not. Thanks for your holiday greets, my beta was delighted with it. Anyway, Happy New Year and hope you enjoyed this chapter and this ending._**

**_Songs featured in this chapter:_**

**_"Afternoon Delight" by Starland Vocal Band, version as sung by Will Ferrell and the others on "Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy" (fun version, y'all! :))_**

**_"Heroes" by the Wallflowers_**

**_"We Can Make a Difference" by Jaci Velasquez_**

**_"Man in the Mirror" by Michael Jackson_**

**_"Ain't No Mountain High Enough" by Diana Ross_**

**_"Seasons of Love" from the musical "Rent"_**


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